


Across the Universe

by Khirsah



Series: Teenage Wasteland [3]
Category: Young Avengers
Genre: First Love, First Time, M/M, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 17:26:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 53,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5936745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khirsah/pseuds/Khirsah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teddy’s brows were knit together. He looked so adorably flustered, and he was Billy’s <i>boyfriend</i>. The word was like a key turning a locked door inside him, releasing <i>years</i> of frustrated yearning he'd bottled up as he'd watched people his age pair up, break it off, find pieces of themselves in someone else, and someone else, and…</p>
<p>God, he’d been so jealous. All these years, he’d wanted that too.</p>
<p><b>OR:</b> Sequel to Teenage Wasteland and Space Oddity</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Want to Hold Your Hand

**BILLY**

He was so happy he swore he’d float straight up into a cloudless New York sky…if Teddy Altman weren’t there to hold his hand.

And wow, wasn’t that a crazy thought? After everything they’d been through—pining and hoping and having and losing and, hey, why not?, _yet more pining_ —here he was, lips still warm from Teddy’s kiss, skin throwing off sparks from Teddy’s shy smile, hand going embarrassingly clammy clasped in Teddy’s fist.

Their fingers were even threaded together, thumbs brushing with every step like they just couldn’t help themselves; Billy was in love.

He winced at that thought and looked away from Teddy’s curious glance, hoping to hide the blush that crept its way up his neck. Yeah, no. No, it was way, way too soon to think like that, right? There were— He was pretty sure there were _steps_ to this sort of thing. Hanging out and hooking up and _going steady_ or, or, something. Some kind of progression between _Hi, I want to make out with your face_ to _Hi, I want to spend **forever** making out with your face_.

At least, Billy was pretty sure there were supposed to be steps, but it seemed like he was always tripping blindly around, still in the closet to pretty much everyone but Jamie and _holding Teddy’s hand_ as they walked from the park toward his house.

To hang out. Maybe in his bedroom. A bedroom with a door that locked and a bed and an anxiety-inducing golden opportunity to kiss and kiss and kiss some more.

And give Teddy a first-hand view of what a complete dork Billy really was.

And maybe meet his parents. And _brothers_.

Oh God.

“Oh God,” Billy moaned quietly. This was going to be a disaster.

Teddy cast him another glance. “Everything good?” he asked.

“Sure,” Billy said too-quickly. The clasped fingers that had been so incredible a few seconds ago now felt awkward. Not wrong, but not natural, either. It suddenly seemed as if everyone they passed was looking at that point of contact and thinking…what? That he was gay? That he was seeing Teddy? That he was in the first blush of his first relationship, where even twining his fingers through another boy’s was enough to send his heart racing? None of that was _wrong_ ; why should it bother him to let them think it?

But it did. It made him feel weirdly exposed, as if he’d left practice wearing nothing but his tights.

He glanced down at his feet, watching their clasped hands out of the corner of his eye—hyperaware of the way their fingers fit together like dovetailed wood. Teddy’s hand was so much bigger than his, broad and strong where Billy’s was slim and dexterous. It shouldn’t have been such a perfect match.

But then, Billy mused on a shallow breath, that could be said about _so much_ between the two of them.

Teddy lightly cleared his throat. “So, uh,” he said, breaking the increasingly heavy silence. “You _say_ everything’s good, but I’m not exactly sure I believe you. Not that I’m calling you a dirty liar or anything,” he added quickly when Billy looked up. His expression was so carefully relaxed that it had to be a front—Teddy was nothing if not a master at cloaking his thoughts, feelings, angst, but Billy had spent the last few months learning to read him with the devotion others spent picking up a foreign language.

Maybe it was a foreign language, in a way. It was _Teddy’s_ language. And even if he wasn’t fluent yet, he knew that subtle shift of his gaze, the faint twist of his mouth. Teddy was freaking out, too. Billy just wasn’t sure whether Teddy was freaking out _because_ Billy was freaking out or if Teddy’s freak-out was completely divorced from Billy’s utterly ridiculous freak-out. Or, you know. Whatever.

Either way, Billy had to say something. They hadn’t gone through everything they had just to stand next to each other and work themselves into a sea of doubts, and fear and…

And _deep breath and go._

“No. I mean, yes: I was being a dirty liar,” Billy said. He squeezed Teddy’s fingers tighter when it seemed like Teddy might pull away. Letting go was for quitters, and Billy had fought too hard to get to this moment. “I was just… _hands_. You know?”

“No,” Teddy said slowly. His eyes never left Billy’s face. “I’m afraid I’m not following, but, um, I’d like to. Maybe we could start with complete sentences?”

God, Teddy was perfect. Sassy as all hell, but perfect. Billy swayed toward him, letting their arms knock together all the way up to the shoulder. An elderly woman in a pink track suit smiled as she passed them, eyes dropping down to those conspicuously clasped hands before she met Billy’s eyes again.

“ _That_ ,” Billy whispered, glancing at her over his shoulder. The word JUICY was splayed in big block letters across her rear. “That’s what I mean.”

“I could let go if you’re not comfortable.” Teddy’s offer was low and earnest, but Billy just gripped his fingers tighter, shaking his head. That wasn’t the _point_. “Or not. I can not. You know, I’m starting to think it’s good I’m the one with super-strength right now.”

Billy blew out a breath and tipped his head toward Teddy’s. “Sorry,” he said. “Sorry, sorry. I know I’m being a spaz. It’s just…weird.”

“Holding hands?”

“Yes. I mean, that too.” He tried hard to find a way to put all the riotous emotions into words. This was Teddy; he could tell Teddy anything and know he wouldn’t be judged, or mocked, or left behind. If their whole fight and reconciliation had taught him anything, it was that he could trust the strength of this thing they had, no matter where it took them. “It’s just, anyone who walks by can see what I’ve, uh, wanted so badly for so long.” He squeezed Teddy’s fingers, telegraphing the unsaid. “I’m not even out to my parents yet; it’s surreal that some hipster in an artistically slouched fedora knows more about me than they do.”

A faint blush was working its way slowly up Teddy’s cheeks, unfurling by degrees. Billy wanted to reach up and trace its progress with his fingertips…his lips. He wanted to catch his fingers in golden hair and be kissing Teddy again. “Oh,” Teddy said, and gently squeezed Billy’s fingers back. The low thrum of anxiety was beginning to fade from his voice again. “Yeah, I get that. It feels weird for me, too. Good-weird, though. To be _me_ while I’m doing it,” he added at Billy’s questioning noise.

“To be you?” Billy scrunched his brows together. “Um…who else would you be?”

Teddy gave a one-shouldered shrug, pausing as the light changed. They were just a couple of blocks away from Billy’s brownstone. Any minute could lead them pass Jamie, or Sam, or one of the other neighborhood kids. Maybe his parents on their way back from Andy-and-David’s scrimmage. “I dunno,” Teddy said, thumb sliding back and forth, back and forth along the ball of Billy’s thumb. His eyes were fixed forward. “With Greg? Pretty much anyone else.”

“…I’d really like to punch him again,” Billy decided. He smirked when Teddy gave a startled laugh, impulsively lifting their threaded fingers to press a kiss to the point where they were woven together. “ _Right_ on his stupid Greg-the-Asshole mouth.”

“I hadn’t realized you were so violent,” Teddy said, but he looked so bashful and _pleased_ , as if the idea of Billy leaping to his defense wasn’t a given. As if it were some kind of wonderful surprise. As if he might not even think he deserved it.

Which, fuck _that_. “Usually, I’m not. I’ve always been more of the _run away_ or _scrunch up really tight and hope they don’t notice you_ sort. Comes from being a natural bully-magnet,” he added, pleasure blooming at the way _Teddy_ growled low in his throat at that. The way Teddy came rushing to _his_ defense all those weeks ago was painted clear across his lids. It was funny, Billy mused, the way neither of them was very good at standing up for himself, but the _moment_ someone else was in trouble…

The moment Teddy was in trouble…

Yeah. He’d really love another shot at Greg the Asshole, even though he knew he’d keep his distance, considering what he’d done to the other boy the last time they’d gone toe to toe. “I’m okay with being violent for you,” Billy added in an undertone, after the silence had stretched almost too long. “I’m okay with being a lot of things for you.”

“Billy,” Teddy began, voice soft and broken-open, and Billy had to keep his face turned away. If he looked at Teddy now, met those blue eyes and that earnest face, there’d be no stopping himself: he’d find his way back into his arms right in the middle of the busy street. And he was prepared for a lot of things, but coming out so visibly to his entire neighborhood wasn’t exactly at the top of his list. Yet.

So instead, he cleared his throat and slipped his hand free. “Come on,” he said, jogging as the light changed. “My house is just ahead.”

It was a beautiful summer day, the heat just strong enough to beat between his shoulder blades. Overhead, leaves shivered in the breeze, casting mottled shadows across the sidewalk. In the corner bodega, one of the stock boys was listening to Mexican rap and humming beneath his breath as he refreshed the wall of flowers. Their smell was heady and sharp: rose and iris and tulip and carnation all blending together with the stink of the street and the sizzle of someone’s backyard cookout.

Billy stopped in front of his house.

“So,” he said, turning back to face Teddy faux-casually. Teddy had his hands in his pockets (away from temptation? Or was that just Billy’s overactive imagination at play?), blond brows faintly arched in question. “We’ve been here before.”

“We’ve been here before,” Teddy agreed easily.

“But we’ve never been _past_ here before.”

There was a complicated series of expressions visible on Teddy’s face, there and gone again like minnows in shallow water. “No,” he agreed, voice perfectly even. “I haven’t.”

There was a strange weight to those words—strong enough that Billy almost asked what he was thinking. He bit his lip at the last moment, however, swallowing back the question. He was stalling enough as it was. “So, uh… Abandon hope all ye who enter here? Seriously,” he added quickly. “Your apartment is awesome and your mom is pretty much the coolest. _My_ parents are weird and my brothers are pure evil. If you’d rather save yourself the hassle of dealing with them, we could, you know, go somewhere else.”

_Anywhere_ else. He wanted Teddy to meet his parents and see his room and be pulled completely and irrevocably into his life, but at the same time, he wanted to shield Teddy from what was sure to be a game of Twenty Questions from his mother, and the maddening annoyance of his obnoxious kid brothers, and his dad being _his dad_ , and, well, all of it. All of the crazy Kaplan crap. The conflicting desires were pulling him this way and that, enough to have his heart racing and his thoughts pinballing inside his head.

Teddy just smiled and tipped forward onto the balls of his feet, hands still in his pockets but body leaning close enough that it was almost all Billy could do not to reach up to cup his face and bring their lips together here, out in the open, standing on his stoop. _God_. “I’d really like it if you wanted me inside,” he said.

Billy was fluent enough in Teddy-ese to catch the way he worded that. Not, _I’d really like to go inside_ but _I’d really like it if you **wanted** me inside_. The subtle distinction changed so much; to Teddy, it meant everything.

“I _really_ want you in my life,” Billy breathed, reaching out despite all reservations to tangle his fingers in the front of Teddy’s tee. The way his breath stuttered, his eyes went all hooded, made Billy’s pulse thunder off out of control. His knees actually felt weak; he’d always thought that was a figure of speech. “All parts of it. I… _like_ you.”

“I like you too,” Teddy murmured, head tipping forward—and it was impossible not to brush their mouths together at that, soft and sweet and _achingly_ brief: a perfect moment. A promise.

Then Billy pulled back and let out a stuttery breath before he could lose himself in Teddy. “Okay,” he said, trying to bridge the moments together. To pull himself together. He pasted on a crooked grin. “Come on in, then—but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Teddy affected a grave nod. “Consider me suitably warned.”

“Remember you said that when Dad is quoting Proust.” He turned, digging into his pocket for his key, and unlocked the door. They stepped inside, and that last separation between his home life and this thing with Teddy was broken down, edges gone blurry and indistinct. Billy watched as Teddy nudged the door shut behind him, then very obviously looked around, curiosity writ clear on his face.

Wondering what Teddy saw, Billy looked around with him, almost as if this were his first time too.

Stark white walls with tasteful pictures hung at regular intervals. Wainscoting in dark wood to match the long-ago refurbished floors. The half-moon table by the door was some kind of antique, a blown glass bowl (for keys, sunglasses, metro cards) giving a surprising pop of blue.

That was pretty much the whole house, Billy realized as he lead Teddy through the living room, family room, dining room, kitchen, then up the steps to the second floor hallway. Earth tones and neutrals and tasteful, subdued furnishings with the occasional surprise—all well-crafted, likely expensive, and organized to within an inch of their lives.

It contrasted wildly with Teddy’s little apartment, all colors that should have clashed and bright, happy chaos. And yet as Billy gave his quick tour, he didn’t feel like either came up short in the comparison. He remembered a time in the first flush of his crush when the beige-and-white walls had seemed so boring contrasted with the rainbow of Teddy’s life. Now, forced to see it all with these new eyes, he appreciated the comfort it afforded. The quiet, meditative touches. The certainty that everything had its place no matter how strange and out of control and frightened it may feel.

…and he should probably stop over-empathizing with furniture before things got weird.

“And our tour of the Kaplan residence concludes with this stunning display of geekery,” Billy said, throwing open his bedroom door and stepping aside to make way. He looked down impulsively, bashful, but when Teddy stepped into the room—into _his bedroom_ —Billy couldn’t help but watch.

It was small but comfortable. A full-sized bed was pushed into one corner, sheets tangled at the foot, pillows dropped on the floor. The dresser was overflowing and his desk was a mess—but of course, Teddy’s gaze was flying instead over the posters pinned to his walls, his ceiling. There were so many they nearly overlapped in places. 

Replica vintage Captain America recruitment propaganda sat cheek-and-jowl with pin-ups of She-Hulk bench-pressing a tractor. The Avengers posed for an awkward group shot around the husk of Doom’s bots; Falcon practically leapt off a 3-D triptych; and Iron Man offered a sarcastic thumbs up on a large signed promotional glossy.

It was the bedroom of a devoted fanboy, and even though Teddy was an Avenger too—even though he _knew_ Teddy was just as geeky beneath his unbelievably cool exterior—it was instinct for Billy to turtle up a little in reflex as he waited for Teddy to make a full circuit of his room.

“Well?” Billy prompted, hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders up around his ears. “What do you think?”

“I think,” Teddy said with a slow grin, “that my boyfriend is _such_ a nerd.”

The word, softly spoken, was like an electric shock; Pavlov’s dogs howling in pleasure in his head, and wow, wow, wow. Hearing it like that made it all so fucking real. “ _What?_ ” Billy managed, sounding strangled, dying to hear it again.

Boyfriend. _Boyfriend_. He had a freaking _boyfriend_. In his _bedroom_.

Take that, twelve-year-old him. God, his mind was blown.

“I meant that in a good way!” Teddy was quick to reassure him, reaching out with both hands but not quite making contact. “It’s awesome; you’re awesome. I didn’t mean—”

“Not that,” Billy said, knocking aside Teddy’s quick reassurances with a strangled laugh. He was being stupid, but whatever, who cared? He felt too good to try to hide it, and if anyone would understand, it’d be Teddy. (Which made him feel weightless in its own incredible way, because yeah, Teddy _got him_ the way no one else ever would.) “What, what you called me. Um. Just now.”

Teddy paused, head tilting. “Boyfriend?” he said slowly, and Billy’s heart gave a near-painful lurch. “I mean…you are, aren’t you? You said it first, and I just thought…. Um. Unless…you changed your mind?”

Billy shook his head.

“Is that a no, you don’t want to be, or no, Teddy, of course you are?” Teddy’s brows were knit together. He looked so adorably flustered, and he was Billy’s _boyfriend_. The word was like a key turning a locked door inside him, releasing _years_ of frustrated yearning he'd bottled up as he'd watched people his age pair up, break it off, find pieces of themselves in someone else, and someone else, and… God, he’d been so jealous. All these years, he’d wanted that too. 

Teddy’s expression was caught somewhere between fond exasperation and concern. “You know,” he said, “I’ve never been jealous of Professor X before, but I could really use telepathy right now.”

“Boyfriend,” Billy said, as if that clarified anything.

“Yes,” Teddy said.

“You really are my boyfriend,” Billy said.

“Yes. If you want me to be.”

Slowly, joy bubbling up like an irrepressible laugh inside him, Billy began to grin. “Cool beans,” he said before reaching out and tangling their fingers together as if it was just that easy.

Because it _was_. For the first time in his life, it was.

Teddy laughed, a little breathless, and squeezed Billy’s fingers. “You’re strange,” he said, reeling Billy in against the broad heat of his chest. “I like it.”

“You’d better like it,” Billy said. This close, he could see the flecks of green and gold in Teddy’s eyes. He could feel the even gusts of his breath against his upturned cheeks. They were holding hands and standing chest-to-chest with barely a sliver of sunlight between them. “You’re stuck with me for pretty much forever.”

“Oh noes.” Teddy’s mouth was close to his, head tipping forward bit by bit.

Billy rocked up onto the balls of his feet, face tilted back in clear welcome. His tongue flickered out to wet his bottom lip, and Teddy’s eyes dropped to follow; heat unspooled suddenly, sloppy and greedy and _incredible_ at the low noise Teddy made in response. “Poor Teddy,” Billy managed. His voice was strangled. He was flushed and starting to get hard. He thought maybe he should have been embarrassed by how easy it was, but…

But he _really wanted_ Teddy’s mouth on his again. Maybe Teddy’s hands on his hips. Or. Under his shirt? Yeah. Yeah, wow, shirts were really overrated and, “Um, why aren’t you kissing me right now?”

Teddy laughed and dropped Billy’s hands to— _oh hell yes_ —lightly grip Billy’s waist. They were so big and Billy’s hips were so laughably skinny that it felt as if he could span his waist easily; his thumbs brushed down, hooking in the hoops of his jeans, and Billy very nearly moaned. Oh God, he was on fire. “Pushy,” Teddy murmured, then swallowed whatever Billy might have said with the warm press of his lips and the _scalding_ hot swipe of his tongue.

Billy gasped, lurching up at the sudden spike of arousal. He’d wanted Teddy from pretty much the first time he’d laid eyes on him, down in that dingy second hand store—dressed in grey-and-black stripes, music blaring between them, a dimple flashing at the corner of his mouth as they pretended not to check each other out.

_Teddy_. Teddy, before he’d known all the complicated, crazy, awesome, contradictory, _brilliant_ layers of him. Before he’d known how sweet and dorky and wonderful he really was.

Just Teddy Teddy Teddy thrumming through his brain, his dreams, his blood and body and—

“ _Oh_ ,” Billy gasped into Teddy’s mouth, rising up onto the balls of his feet. He dug his hands into Teddy’s hair, tangling golden-bright strands about his fingers, and chased his tongue with a low noise he probably should have been embarrassed by. It was still so hard to believe he could do this; he could kiss Teddy any time he wanted.

That Teddy wanted to kiss him back.

“Yeah,” Teddy murmured. His hands were sliding up and down Billy’s back, lips unbelievably soft as they met his. He tasted incredible, tongue flickering against Billy’s in slow, nearly shy brushes that made heat unspool achingly deep inside him. When Billy made another low noise, Teddy’s grip on him went tighter. When Billy pressed closecloseclose, Teddy rocked forward. He could feel Teddy’s erection through layers of cloth, hot, and the rasp of their hips, their cocks, together was steadily driving Billy insane.

Teddy was hard because of _him_. And oh God, oh God, that in itself was crazy hot. It set off fireworks beneath his skin and sent the whole world spinning. His cock was straining against his jeans. His breath was coming faster and faster against Teddy’s lips, and the rasp of fabric, the wet sound of their tongues twining, the restless swipe of Teddy’s hands, the feel of all those muscles beneath Billy’s own wandering palms, the rapid _pounding_ of his heart was—

Suddenly Teddy pulled back.

“What, no,” Billy whined, trying to reel him back, but Teddy just caught one of his wrists and tugged it down between them. With his knuckles pressed against Teddy’s chest, he could feel the frantic gallop of his heart—but Teddy wasn’t looking at him anymore. He was looking at Billy’s door instead, a faint frown between his brows.

“Teddy.”

“Shh. Did you hear that?”

“I heard you making out with me,” Billy said. “I liked that.” But he forced himself to push past the thrum of arousal and focus. Billy shifted, dropping down onto his heels, and tilted his head to _listen_. Sure enough, there were voices drifting up from below and the sound of doors opening and closing. “Oh,” he said, frustrated. Of all the worst timing. “I guess practice is over.”

Teddy began to retreat. “Your parents?” he said. His voice was perfectly even, but Billy could see the anxiety spiking in those blue (blue) eyes, eating away at the desire like corrupted film. “I should—go?”

Billy caught Teddy’s hand before he could get too far away and gently squeezed. “You should stay,” he corrected. Then, swallowing his own thrum of anxiety, he added: “You should stay for dinner. Seriously.”

Teddy ducked his head. The long sweep of his bangs covered half his expression, but Billy could _feel_ the heat of his pleased blush, just as surely as he could feel Teddy’s gaze on their interlocking fingers. “Yeah,” Teddy murmured; his voice was a little hoarse. “Sure, okay. If you’re certain.”

He wasn’t certain, but that was just fear talking. He would get there. Until then, he could bluff. “Yeah. Hey, what’s the worst that could happen? My stupid brothers could drive you nuts and my mother could pester you with questions and my dad could talk about Hemmingway and _oh God_ do not mention Old Man and the Sea or he will never stop, and—”

Billy swallowed an uneven breath.

Teddy was grinning, shy and still a little nervous, but so sweet Billy couldn’t even remember what he’d been about to say. “I’m not even sure I’d know where to start,” Teddy admitted. “Something something fish.”

He laughed. “Seriously, if you value your sanity, _don’t_.”

“Yeah, okay.” Teddy dropped his gaze to their hands again and gave a little squeeze. Outside the whole world that was this bedroom, Andy and David’s voices were raised in an argument. There was a heavy tread on the stairs. “So, are you…out? To your parents?”

Billy flinched. Crap. “No,” he said. “I mean, not yet. I will be, someday. But I just… You know?”

Teddy gave a little nod. “Yeah,” he said. “I do. So I’m…what? Your friend from school? From a summer intermural thing? What are you telling them you’re doing all day?”

“I’m sorry,” Billy said. He had to fight the impulse to hang on when Teddy very gently tugged his hand away. Instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling all at once awkward and out of synch with his own body. “I know I should just— It’s not like I think they’d freak out or anything.”

“ _Hey_ ,” Teddy said, _gently_ , reaching up to brush back the dark snarl of Billy’s hair. He caught him by the back of his skull and reeled him close for just a moment, pressing his lips softly—precisely—to the center of Billy’s forehead. Right between the brows. “I really, really do get it. It’s _okay_.”

Billy swallowed, eyes slipping shut. He gave a little nod. “Okay,” he said. He wanted to ask whether Teddy was out to _his_ mother, but he swallowed the words back immediately. No, of course Teddy was. Despite all his secrets, Teddy had never really taken any pains to hide this part of him. It was as if he’d had so much that he was keeping locked up inside that something as simple and impossibly complex as who he was attracted to just…didn’t matter.

Maybe it really didn’t.

Maybe it didn’t have to, at least.

And maybe he was running out of time to flounder over it now—there was a sharp, familiar rap on his door, followed by his mother’s, “Billy? Are you home?”

Billy pulled away from Teddy, but not by much. He defiantly kept their arms brushing just a little as he turned, just as the door was being pushed open. “Hey Mom,” he said, proud of how relaxed he sounded. He didn’t even have to look to know that Teddy was _perfect_ again. Unreadable for anyone but Billy. “Yeah, I was just showing Teddy around. You remember me mentioning Teddy, right? From the book club I joined?”

Standing framed in the doorway, still dressed in her camel-colored skirt suit and pearls (conference day, he thought. Or was it a partners meeting?), his mother barely even blinked—though the faint arch of her left brow told Billy a whole _novel_ worth of subtext, with chapters titled: _You’ve never mentioned you had friends_ ; and _since when did you join a book club_ ; to _we will speak of this later, young man_. More importantly, however, she smiled at Teddy. That was worth whatever chewing out Billy would get later for forgetting to _communicate_. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Teddy,” she said.

Teddy smiled back, that dimple flashing, and immediately offered his hand like a real gentleman or something. “You too, Mrs. Kaplan. I hope I’m not in the way?”

Billy could actually _feel_ his mother warming to Teddy as she took his hand in her own firm grip. He gave it an hour, tops, before she was calling up Mrs. Altman and seeing if they could trade sons. “Of course not. And please, call me Rebecca. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“If it’s not an inconvenience.”

His mother glanced over at him, and Billy could practically read _what a polite young man; Billy, please take notes_ in that single, speaking look. “Not at all. It should be ready in about an hour.” She took a step back toward the door. “I’ll leave you to your…reading?”

“Old Man and the Sea,” Teddy supplied. His smile was so wide and bright and genuine that Billy couldn’t even work up the heart to elbow him in the side. “I’ve got a _thing_ about fish.”

His mother just laughed. “Goodness. Jeff is going to _love_ you,” she teased, utterly relaxed and charmed in that way people had when they found themselves in Teddy’s orbit. Watching Teddy’s eyes go bright, his own grin more natural, Billy could only sigh and rock up onto the balls of his feet and think:

_Yeah, well, join the club._


	2. Man on the Moon

**TEDDY**

He was pretty sure he was dreaming.

He had to be. Sitting in the Kaplan’s living room, pretending to watch whatever was scrolling across the screen and just soaking in how _easily_ they had let him in, embracing him as if he really belonged here…he’d had this dream a thousand times. He’d wanted it so fiercely that it was like a sense memory. It went all the way down to his bones. Surely it couldn’t be _real_?

And yet, and yet, and yet…

Teddy ducked his head, fingers tugging at a loose thread at the fraying knee of his pants, and watched everyone orbit around him like friendly satellites. The day had taken on a hazy cast. _So much_ had happened within the last six hours, Teddy felt like his world was still tipping head over feet in an endless, breathless tumble. His chest felt full and tight. He was so happy it was surreal.

_Don’t move, don’t breathe, don’t let this end._

“Ugh, rerun,” Billy said, leaning to grab the remote off the coffee table. Teddy kept his head down as Billy flipped idly through channels; the noise of one commercial bleeding into another didn’t help the weird, unmoored feeling he was experiencing.

_Still_ , he thought as he dared a quick glance at Billy, he wouldn’t change anything for the world. This was what he’d been longing for, all this time. This… _normalcy_. Belonging.

He belonged.

“It’s getting to be that time; we should get ready to turn in,” Billy’s mom suddenly said, leaning back in her tidy straight-back chair. The younger brothers—Andy and David—had already been shooed up to their room about an hour ago. The rest of them were still sprawled about various pieces of comfortable-but-nice furniture. Billy sat on the opposite end of the couch from Teddy; the cushion between them was no man’s land. It was so weird to think he’d had his tongue in Billy’s mouth just a few hours ago, and now they were pretending like any touch was an accident. “You have an early morning tomorrow.”

Billy’s dad looked up from his book, ghostly blue light flickering across his face. “‘Why do old men wake so early?’” he intoned in a way that Teddy was pretty sure meant he was quoting something. “‘Is it to have one longer day?’”

Billy snorted. “It’s so they can go catch _really big fish_ ,” he said, then rolled his eyes when Teddy looked at him.

“‘Perhaps I should not have been a fisherman, he thought. But that was the thing that I was born for.’ Alas, sleep calls fishermen and fools alike.”

Teddy wracked his brain for a quote of his own, but he wasn’t exactly a huge Hemmingway buff, no matter how hard he’d tried to fake it over dinner. He was pretty sure Billy’s dad knew he was faking, but it felt good to make the effort; just like it felt good when Billy’s mom met his eyes with a fondly exasperated look now, as if somehow Teddy were already a part of this. As if he were _welcome_ into their little drama.

Billy-and-his-father bantering about literature, and Teddy and Rebecca sharing drolly amused looks. He could see this playing out again and again. He could see this being a _thing_ between the four of them. His stomach squirmed in pleasure.

“Um,” Teddy said. Everyone glanced at him. He smiled, tentative. “‘So long and thanks for all the fish?’”

Billy grinned, sudden and huge and absolutely dazzling. In his own comfortable armchair, his father snorted and closed the book over his thumb. “Outplayed at my own game: I can think of no better _good night_ than that,” Jeff said, standing. He cocked his head. “Unless perhaps one expanded the purview to include Billy’s favorite movie.”

“You have a favorite movie?” Teddy asked, but Rebecca was standing too, laughing and pointing a faux-warning finger at her husband.

“ _No singing_ ,” she warned. “Billy, lock up once you see your friend out. It was such a pleasure meeting you, Teddy,” she added, warmly.

Teddy clambered to his feet, fighting the urge to reach out and shake their hands or something equally stupid. Usually he had a pretty good idea how to act around people, but something about being with Billy’s family—and wanting so desperately for them to like him—had kept him off-balance all night. “Thanks for inviting me to stay for dinner, Mrs. Kaplan,” he said.

“Please,” she said, smiling. “Rebecca. Come on, Jeff.”

“Indeed,” he added, tucking his book under his arm. “For you see—”

Billy covered his face. “Ugh, please don’t,” he groaned.

Jeff simply cocked his head and met Teddy’s eyes, very gravely. “‘The sun has gone to bed and so must I.’ Goodnight, Teddy. I look forward to seeing you again.” He shuffled off, Rebecca at his side. Teddy could hear their low voices as they headed up the steps to the bedroom, barely audible over the tv: “What? Our son will survive the embarrassment. You’ll notice I didn’t _sing_.”

Teddy watched them go, bemused, a little bewildered. He swung back to look at Billy when the television clicked off. Billy’s hair was a dark tangle and his face was cast into sharp relief by the sudden dim. “Your favorite movie is _Sound of Music_?” Teddy said.

“Don’t _even_. C’mon,” Billy added, clambering up to his knees. Teddy reached out, offering his hand, and his heart gave an honest-to-God lurch when Billy snagged it. “I guess that’s my cue to see you out the door. Um, if you wait a minute, I can walk to the subway with you.”

He squeezed Billy’s fingers, only letting go when he was standing. “If you’re sure you won’t get in trouble or anything.”

Billy shrugged a shoulder, smiling. The hand Teddy had been holding curled into a fist before loosening, as if he’d felt the same rush of sparks at the contact. “Nah,” he said. “So long as we don’t sneak into any gyms and go swimming for a few hours or whatever, I should be fine.”

He almost immediately blushed, turning away, and Teddy was left to stand there and, God, remember. The smell of chlorine. The ghostly blue-green light twisting across the high ceiling. The _whoosh whoosh_ of water lapping against tile.

Billy, gasping and arching in his arms, electric.

Teddy cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets to hide their faint tremor, pretending to search for his Metro card. Billy moved into the kitchen, and he could hear the soft clink of keys and the scuff of his wallet. Directly over Teddy’s head, the floor creaked as Mr. and Mrs. Kaplan got ready for bed, unaware that Teddy was down here, standing in their living room, remembering the way their son gasped into his mouth as their hips drove inexorably together.

Billy poked his head back into the room. “Okay, ready.”

_Right_. Teddy called up a smile—warming inside when Billy grinned back—and moved to join him. Their shoes were waiting in the tidy entryway cubby ( _nothing_ like the colorfully messy pile in Teddy’s own apartment), and they slipped their sneakers back on in silence. Billy grabbed the door for them, holding it wide, and Teddy fought the impulse to brush their hands together as he stepped back out into the warm summer evening.

He paused on the stoop, filling his lungs. This part of the Upper East Side was quiet compared to his own neighborhood. The brownstones lining the street were settled comfortable and sleepy in their lots, lined cheek-to-jowl like a row of drowsing cats. Trees were planted along the sidewalk at regular intervals, small wrought iron trellises blocking off the postage-stamp-sized bit of greenery. Looking up, he could just make out the moon through the canopy of leaves. It was so full and bright his shoulder blades actually itched with the desire to take flight.

Billy moved to stand next to him, shoving his keys in his pocket. When he dropped his hand, their fingers brushed after all. “What’re you looking at?”

“The moon.”

“You like the moon, huh?”

Teddy glanced over; Billy’s lips were curved into a little smirk. “I like the moon,” he said.

“Space _nerd_.” The smirk grew and Billy tipped his face toward Teddy’s, swaying into him until their hands brushed more firmly and their elbows jostled together. He was warm against Teddy’s side; on such a hot night, it shouldn’t have felt so good, and yet it was all Teddy could do not to press even closer. Not to bask in him, in this. “Hey, Teddy?”

“Yeah?” Teddy murmured. His voice came out a little hoarse, and Billy’s expression gentled, smirk transmutating into a smile sweet enough to make Teddy’s heart begin to pound.

Billy cleared his throat and glanced down, then back up again. He bit his lower lip. “Someday I’ll take you there, okay?”

“To the moon?”

“Sure,” Billy said. He turned more fully to face him, expression beautifully open the way no one else ever was. “Why not?”

_I love you_ , he wanted to say, didn’t dare. Instead, Teddy shifted closer. “I’d kiss you right now if we weren’t…you know,” he said, low.

Billy flushed. “Yeah,” he said. “Uh. Me too. But, neighbors.”

“Neighbors,” Teddy agreed.

“And I’m pretty sure I’m so wound up by today that I wouldn’t exactly want to stop. You’d have to, like, pry me off your mouth with a crowbar. Maybe set up a perimeter fence.”

He laughed. “Because that’s likely to happen.” Billy’s flush deepened, color blooming across his cheeks in subtle shades of red and pink. Teddy wet his lips. “But, uh, you know. They probably wouldn’t be able to see if we did this.” Reaching out those scant few inches, Teddy carefully hooked Billy’s middle and index fingers with his own.

Billy looked down, then up again. He arched a brow. “Um?” he said. “This is kind of a weird way to hold hands, but okay.”

Teddy brushed their fingers together up to the second knuckle, then down to the tips again. “It’s a Vulcan kiss,” he explained. “ _Very_ racy.”

Billy pulled back with a snorting laugh, one hand clapped over his mouth. It was loud in the quiet evening—almost too loud—and Teddy grinned and shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back onto his heels. Billy’s shoulders were shaking, and the noises he was making, God. It just felt _so good_ to crack Billy up like that—to be the reason he was so loose-limbed and happy.

Finally, _finally_ , Billy dropped his hand, still laughing but quieter now. More in control. He elbowed Teddy hard in the side and Teddy jostled him back playfully; together, as if by unspoken agreement, they headed down the steps and to the street. “You,” Billy said, voice trembling with amusement, “really are _such a nerd_ , you know. I think you’re geekier than I am, which, lemme tell you, is hard to do. Not even Jamie is more of a geek than me.”

“It’s a talent,” Teddy said with faux sincerity. “You could even say it’s a calling.”

“It’s something, all right. _You’re_ something.”

“I’m your something,” Teddy said on an impulse, and the quick, almost shy smile Billy cast him was enough to make his stomach squirm in pleasure.

Billy quickly looked away again, ears red. “Yeah,” he said. “Looks like it. Um, hey, so. _Speaking_ of all that…are we going to tell Eli and Nate?”

“That we’re, um, boyfriends?” He dropped his voice on the last word. There weren’t a lot of people out on the street this time of night, but it was still Manhattan—even though the sidewalks weren’t crowded, they weren’t exactly alone.

Billy glanced up again, flushing, as if the word gave him almost as much pleasure as it did Teddy. “Yeah. That.”

Teddy shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. They already figured something was going on…until I flat-out denied it earlier today. Oops. But, I mean, if we get any friendlier at practice…they’re going to notice eventually, right?”

“ _Will_ they?” Billy skipped ahead a step and turned, walking backwards. “I mean… I’ve never exactly been subtle with the whole, you know, unmanageably huge crush I’ve had on you.”

“Subtle enough to fool me!” Teddy protested.

Billy just rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, you criminally undervalue yourself, so that’s not exactly a huge shock.” He kept going before Teddy could protest. “Nate is so socially awkward he barely knows his ass from his elbow when it comes to stuff like this, and I’m pretty sure Eli has already written both of us off by now, so… If we don’t tell them, I don’t think they’re going to notice. Unless we, you know…start making out during trust exercises or something.”

Teddy reached out to catch the front of Billy’s shirt, tugging him to the side before he walked straight into a hydrant; Billy barely spared it a glance. “We’re not going to start making out during trust exercises,” he mused. “For one thing, I’ll be all Hulk-y, then, so it’d be weird.”

Billy dropped his chin. “Um,” he said, then coughed.

Teddy stopped. Billy stumbled a step, then stopped with him. “Wait,” Teddy said. “You _like_ that?”

Billy gestured helplessly. “Um!” he said.

_Holy cow._ Teddy stared at Billy, his whole world reorienting. Sure, there had been a time or two when Billy had looked at him weird when he’d Hulked out, but he’d never been sure whether it had been…because of _that_ or because Teddy shifting was an uncomfortable reminder of all the crap between them. But here, now, Billy’s guiltily red cheeks couldn’t be clearer and he… He wasn’t sure what to make of that. “You… _like_ the whole…big and green thing?”

Billy scrubbed his hands over his face. “Oh my God, do we have to talk about this? Off topic!”

“ _On_ topic. Really, really on topic.” He glanced around, then snagged Billy’s elbow, tugging him out of the middle of the sidewalk and toward one of the dark storefronts. They were on the main avenue now, half a block away from the subway entrance. Streetlights and the glow of passing cars lit Billy’s face like a spotlight. “Are you, um, into that? No judgement! I’m just—”

“Yes, okay?” Billy looked up, then back down again, fingers sliding up into his dark snarls of hair. “Oh my God, this is so— Look, you’re— You’re just…muscles.”

“Muscles.”

Billy looked up again. “A _lot_ of muscles.”

“But…” Teddy squinted at him. “I’m green.”

Billy just shrugged a shoulder. “So? You’re still Teddy. And it turns out I, uh, like pretty much every version I’ve ever seen of you. I’m always going to like whatever _you_ you’re willing to give me.”

And that. _That_ was enough to steal his breath. That was almost enough to break and re-mend his heart. Teddy took an impulsive step forward, crowding into Billy’s space. When Billy met his eyes, Teddy fought to keep his expression open, unguarded, _welcoming_ Billy to see every beautiful, complicated feeling that was pinballing through his body.

_See me_ , he thought. _You see me._

Billy let out a stuttery sigh. They stared at each other, unspeaking, barely blinking, for what felt like a very long time. All up and down the avenue, New York was teeming with life. But between them, here, there was almost perfect stillness, as if all the high emotions of the day, all the hopes and triumphs and joys and _yearnings_ had been simmered down into the very air they shared. The tense, vibrating anticipation caught between them.

Then, finally, biting his lip, Billy reached out…and hooked his index and middle fingers with Teddy’s. A Vulcan kiss.

Teddy huffed a surprised laugh; the moment was broken. He would have given anything to be able to lean forward and kiss Billy right then. Instead, he squeezed Billy’s fingers lightly, then let go. Together they walked to the end of the block and the waiting subway.

“So,” Billy said, knocking lightly against Teddy’s arm with each step. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll bring the coffee and bagels,” Teddy promised. Then a corner of his mouth kicked up. “Or doughnuts?”

“If you’re talking Doughnut Plant, I’m probably going to have to make out with your face,” Billy warned.

He laughed, pausing on the first step down into the station. “Oh noes,” Teddy said. “My worst nightmare. Goodnight, Billy,” he added, a little quieter.

Billy bit his lip and gripped the edge of the rail. “So long,” he said. “Farewell,” he said. “Auf Wiedersehen,” he said. His grin grew. “Goodnight.”

“…so, you say _I’m_ the nerd,” Teddy muttered, biting back a thrilled smile as Billy’s laugh followed him all the way down into the station. There were only a handful of people waiting by the tracks, earbuds in and eyes glazed. Teddy hopped down the last few steps to join them, unable to muffle the soaring _happiness_ rising up and up and up inside his chest. He felt as if he’d swallowed the sun, and that pure joy carried him all the way back to Brooklyn and his waiting apartment complex.

Light was still seeping from beneath the door, so Teddy didn’t bother trying to be quiet as he let himself in, leaving his key on the hook and immediately crouching to kick off his sneakers. Music was drifting from his mother’s closed door down the hall and the air smelled like incense. He hummed a few of the notes beneath his breath, standing and turning toward his room—

—then froze.

His door was open.

Teddy was careful. He was so, _so_ careful to keep his room closed up tight and dark and private ever since Billy had used his powers to bring back the aurora. It had taken him _weeks_ of constant work to paint the mural the first time; the last thing Teddy needed was to explain to his mother how it had shown up again in a matter of seconds. The last thing Teddy needed was to have to explain anything to her, but he knew a tipping point when he saw one, and this? This kind of _magic_ was going to be a hard lie to swallow.

_Fuck._

Down the hall, his mother’s door creaked open.

_Fuck. Fuck._

“Hey sweetheart,” she said, _carefully_. Teddy turned to look at her, feeling guilty and working to keep that guilt off his face. “I wasn’t sure I’d still be awake when you got in. I’m glad I am.”

“I was over at Billy’s,” he said. That at least was a neutral enough topic. “Mrs. Kaplan says hi.”

“Mrs. Kaplan is terrifying.” She crossed her arms, looking at him steadily. Too steadily. Rebecca had called her at least once before, right after Billy and Teddy had had the breakdown that resulted in an impromptu room redecoration. Having finally met her, he could only imagine the kind of inquisition she’d given his mother. Rebecca Kaplan was nice enough, but she was certainly…formidable. 

An awkward silence stretched between them before she added, “How’s Billy?”

Teddy scuffed his foot. “He’s fine,” he said. Another awkward second passed before he shuffled back toward the living room, already knowing his mother would follow before he heard the first creak of the floorboard. He retreated to the couch, tucking up his legs and grabbing a pillow for support, _waiting_ for whatever it was she wanted to say. The questions were there between them, heavy and significant, and he just—

He just wished he could find a way to tell her everything without telling her anything. She already worked so hard; she _worried_. He couldn’t live with himself if he made her worry any more. _So, hey Mom, it turns out me and a couple of other teenagers are going to go up against one of the Avengers’ most-feared villains. Don’t worry; I’m sorry if we die trying, it’ll be over really quick._

There was no way he could do that do her, but there was no way he could _stop_ being an Avenger, either. He _needed_ the Avengers. He _needed_ the sense of purpose and belonging they gave him.

Teddy took an uneven breath and tried to keep his face perfectly blank.

His mother moved to sit on the opposite end of the couch. She turned, leaning back against the arm and resting her feet on the cushion between them. The way she was looking at him felt significant, though Teddy couldn’t for the life of him figure out what she was trying to say in the arch of her brow.

“So,” she began, drawing out the word.

“So,” Teddy echoed, scrambling. Was this about his room? His weird absences? The occasional scrapes and bruises he couldn’t manage to hide from her? The stretched out t-shirts or the crap Greg had been pulling over the past few weeks or…

She gave a huff of breath and lightly nudged his leg with her foot. “ _So_ ,” she tried again. “Is there anything we should be talking about?” She nudged his leg again when he didn’t immediately answer—then very obviously dropped her eyes to the point of contact before looking up again, brows arched.

At a complete loss, scrambling for an easy lie to explain everything, Teddy followed her gaze…then laughed, tension suddenly breaking.

Her toes had been painted in a rainbow, which, _subtle_. She cast him another significant look, both brows arched, and, well, _this_ conversation he didn’t mind having. “You already have your PFLAG button ready and waiting, don’t you?” Teddy said.

She grinned, dimples flashing. “I don’t know what you mean, dear.”

“Uh-huh. Right.” Billy was a thousand times easier to explain than the Avengers. More than that, he was surprised to realize he actually _wanted_ to talk to her about him. He had a _boyfriend_. If he weren’t so scared of fucking it all up, he’d be yelling that from the freaking rooftops. “So, uh. I guess you probably already know what I’m going to say.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not dying to hear you say it.”

Teddy flushed and looked down; he wrapped his arms more firmly around the pillow. “Okay, so, um, Billy and I are sort of seeing each other now.”

“ _Sort of_?” she teased, and he blew out a breath, throwing the pillow at her. She just laughed and caught it, tucking it between her back and the hard arm of the couch. “Come on, I need more than that. Are you _seeing each other_ like _hanging out_ or _seeing each other_ like _going steady_ or _seeing each other_ like _hooking up_ or _seeing each other_ like…” His mother trailed off, cocking her head. “Some other vague term the CW has yet to teach me.”

“You’re the worst. Did you know that?” Teddy grumbled. He straightened, crossing his legs under him. If they had cups of tea in their hands, this could be like almost any other night—except it wasn’t. It was the night he and Billy were, “Boyfriends.” And God, it really did feel good to say it.

Her sudden smile could have lit up half of Brooklyn. “Finally!” his mother crowed, tumbling forward to grab the back of his skull to leave a smacking kiss between his brows. “I thought I was going to have to start needlepointing hints into the upholstery.”

Teddy sputtered, pretending to fight her off, but he was grinning too—grinning big and hard and _good_ , his heart pounding in his chest. “As if you’d know how,” he sassed. “You’d end up pricking your fingers so many times I’d have to take you to the ER for blood loss.”

“Maybe,” his mother agreed, falling back into her side of the couch. “But before I went, I’d scrawl out a final message on your pillow in my blood.”

“Thanks for the nightmare I’m going to have tonight, Mom.”

Her smile never once faltered. “Oh baby, you are more than welcome. Now, I’m going to want all the details, and I _am_ willing to torture them out of you—”

“No shock there.”

“—but first, how about some tea? I could really go for some Altman family gossip tea time.” She stood, reaching out to ruffle his hair as she passed. “Are we in the mood for chai or orange cinnamon?”

“Surprise me,” he said, relaxing back. Yeah. Yeah, this was good. This was far better than anything he could have imagined. Maybe he’d just forgotten to latch the door on his way out this morning? Maybe it had fallen open thanks to a draft? Maybe everything was going to work out after all.

His mother padded toward the kitchen, then paused and glanced over her shoulder. “By the way,” she said in her _casual_ voice—the one she used when she wanted to try to keep him at ease. It never failed to make him tense in readiness. “See that pile of books on the coffee table?”

Teddy glanced over. He hadn’t noticed, but his mother had left a stack of paperbacks about a foot high. He reached out, spinning the top one around so he could get a better look. _Marshalling the Power of You_ it said in big, bold, self-affirming font. The pages were dog-eared and yellowing; it had to be almost as old as he was.

He looked up, confused.

“I’d like you to lend those to Billy for me,” she said.

Teddy huffed a breath. “You already lent him some of your woo-woo books,” he reminded her.

She hummed. “Maybe, but this is different. Look.” His mother turned, leaning a hip against the arched kitchen doorway. She crossed her arms. “I know you don’t like talking about this, so I’ll respect your autonomy and be _brief_ —though if you or Billy _ever_ have questions, I’m here.”

He felt the first prickle of horror. “Oh God,” Teddy said. “Are we about to have a sex talk?”

“ _No_ ,” she said, then added, “but please do make sure you use condoms. You’ll find some left by the condom fairy starting tomorrow. No,” she continued, completely ignoring the sudden furious heat rising in his cheeks. “We’re having the safe powers talk. You’ve had yours since you were a baby, so you probably don’t remember what it was like to learn how to live with them.”

“ _Mom,_ ” Teddy protested, startled. He sat up straighter, heart in his throat. _Shit. Shit shit shit._

She pointed at him. “Wait. Let me finish, baby. You don’t remember, but I used _those books_ to help you get through the worst of it. You may find them cheesy now, but the way they talk about self-awareness and control and harnessing what you _want_ from yourself and others can be very useful when you’re young and scrambling to find ways to order your mind.”

“Mom,” he echoed, quieter this time. He had no idea what else to say.

“I’m not making any accusations. I’m trying not to make any assumptions. But I do know you didn’t paint that room _exactly_ how it used to be when I wasn’t looking, so I figure…okay. Mutant powers have to be involved somewhere. And I know it wasn’t you.”

Teddy looked down at the books stacked high, faded and old. He _didn’t_ remember learning to use his powers—not really. They’d just always…been there. “How do you know it wasn’t me?” he asked, picking up the first book. It fell open in his hands, spine cracked—well-worn.

Her voice went quiet, too. “I just know. But whether it’s Billy or _Greg_ or Jamie or any of your other mysterious friends…it doesn’t matter. Just give them those books, okay? And let them know I’m happy to help if I’m needed. With the world like it is, and everyone always so scared for so little reason, I just want you and your friends to be _safe_.” She paused. “And that really does extend to safe sex, so, like I said, _condom fairy._ ”

“ _Mom!_ ” Teddy protested, lifting the book to hide behind it. He could feel his insides curling up in mortification just from those words, but he knew that in the mood she was in now, she’d chase him down if he made a run for it.

She just laughed at him, because she was the worst mother of all time. “I’ll get that tea on,” she promised, pushing away from the doorway and disappearing into the kitchen. He slowly began to relax again at the sound of the water coming on, the kettle rattling, his mother humming that snatch of song that had been playing earlier.

Outside the window, a warm breeze blew, fluttering the curtains with the stink of a Brooklyn summer. Teddy curled his arms around the self-help book, tucking it against his hammering heart and filling his lungs with the familiar scents. Incense and car exhaust and orange-cinnamon and trash. The nearby river. A dozen dinners drifting from neighbors’ homes, along with their arguments, confessions, conversations, hopes and dreams and doubts.

And across the river, tucked in an expensive brownstone on the Upper East Side, Billy was probably sitting alone in his room right now—his room where Teddy had been kissing him; where Teddy would kiss him again, and again, and again—and feeling the same sweltering summer breeze. Smelling the same familiar city scents.

_Remembering._

And yeah. Yeah, God, whatever else Teddy had been through over the last few weeks, _years_ , the image of Billy curling up around his pillows and thinking about Teddy like he was something special…the sound of his mother singing happily to herself as she made them tea…the aches and pains of a practice that had ended on the _best_ of notes…

It all echoed inside him, ringing like a bell: _worth everything_.


	3. Least Complicated

**BILLY**

****

Billy stumbled out his front door, struggling to tug on his backpack and finish his breakfast at the same time. The summer air was wonderfully hot today, each breeze blowing down the cross-street ruffling his (already messy, thanks) hair and bringing with it…

He wrinkled his nose. Fine, okay, each breeze brought with it the mingled stench of cooking garbage and exhaust, but, _whatever_. It was summer in New York City. At least no one had let their dogs piss on the stoop. Silver linings.

“Annnnnd good morning New York,” Billy said with a wry twist of his lips.

He shoved the last bite of toast into his mouth and straightened out his strap as he hopped down onto the sidewalk, shoelaces trailing behind him. They made little _shhhh shhhh_ noises against the cracked asphalt when he moved, as if announcing his presence. That made him smile, a little. _Seeing_ them made him smile too, thinking of Teddy—because, obviously he was _crazy._

But still. He couldn’t seem to help the growing grin.

A jogger passed by, veering around him. A few cars hummed down the brownstone-lined road. Someone had left their newspapers to pile up, and he took a moment to nudge them closer to the steps with the toe of his sneaker. He had nothing but time before practice began for once; it was _possible_ he’d been so excited at the idea of seeing his brand new boyfriend ( _boyfriend!!_ ) again that he hadn’t been able to get much sleep.

Not that he was going to admit that.

Not that, with Teddy, he needed to admit _anything_.

And, ugh, he was making stupidly besotted faces at his shoelaces again. He really needed to get his act together before practice or Eli would never let him live it down. Billy scuffed his sneakers against the sidewalk before forcing himself to look up again, squinting against the sunlight. Okay. No more thinking about Teddy until he reached the ruined mansion. That would be ten whole minutes. He could do ten whole minutes, right?

Right??

He shook his head at himself and kept walking, taking in the beautiful day. There was a huge old tree almost all the way down the block, near the avenue. Its leaves were scattering with each breeze, wending their way down in movie credits slow motion. A shaft of sunlight broke through in dappled shades, a gap in the branches allowing one perfect beam through to land on a stately brownstone’s stoop.

…and catch in very familiar golden hair.

Billy stumbled to a stop, heart giving a stupid little lurch. For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating—or maybe it was his powers, working to show him what he most desperately wanted to see. Like he had _conjured_ Teddy somehow. But as he blinked and slowly crept closer, the vision didn’t break away into a summer haze. If anything, Teddy only seemed more real, more _present_ , as if with each step Billy could sense the familiar warmth of him. The scent that had already been ingrained into his memory. The _smile._

Teddy shifted, elbows on his knees, and laughed. Sunlight caught on the line of silver earrings, and Billy’s heart gave another stumbling lurch.

He was on autopilot, moving toward Teddy now as if he’d been caught in an undertow. It wasn’t until he was just a few feet away that he realized there was someone sitting on the stoop next to Teddy. Jamie…which he supposed made sense, considering _this was_ _Jamie’s house_. Not that he’d noticed that until now, genius that he was.

_In my defense_ , Billy thought, flushing when Jamie looked up to catch his eye, then elbowed Teddy in the ribs. Teddy glanced over, smile breaking across his gorgeous face. Dimples flashing, oh God. _I’m…um…nope, no defense. There is no defense; oh wow, he’s so, just, ugh. Ugh!_

“Uh, hi,” Billy said, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“Hi,” _his boyfriend_ said, smile going wider.

“Hey, buttface,” Jamie said happily. “Teddy and I were just talking about you.”

He didn’t trip over his shoelaces or faceplant on the sidewalk or even particularly wobble at that news, but he figured if he really was in some kind of teen romantic comedy, he _totally would have_ , because that? That was not what he wanted to hear. “Oh hey, why don’t we not do that,” Billy said quickly. “That sounds like a thing that would be fun not to do.”

“Only nice things,” Teddy promised. Then, because Teddy clearly was out to kill him, he reached out and casually hooked his pointer and middle finger into Billy’s, giving a little squeeze. It was a small gesture, as PDAs went—subtle as one of those Vulcan kisses, the memory of which practically had Billy melting into his sneakers. Or, oh, _oh_ , wait, was this another Vulcan kiss? Were they, like, totally Vulcan making out in front of Jamie right now? Did Jamie _know_? Crap, shit, Jamie would totally know!

_Disengage! Disengage!_

Billy took a quick step back—and this time, because his life was nothing if not a tragic parade of ironies, he _did_ trip on those trailing laces, arms pinwheeling as he went crashing to the sidewalk.

Teddy caught his hand and jerked him forward just in time, moving with enough grace and quick reflexes that even Iron Lad would have been pleased. He was up from the stoop even as Billy pitched forward with the change in momentum, hand sliding up to catch Billy’s elbow, other settling on his hip in a tight, _hot_ grip. Billy’s hands came up, palms landing flat against a (perfectly) muscular chest, face a _breath_ away from the steady thrum of Teddy’s heart. And oh, _oh_ the scent of him was all around him. The heat of his body was enveloping. When he looked up, everything was Teddy. The whole world was a pair of blue eyes.

Billy wet his lips; Teddy watched with barely concealed interest. There was a bit of pink edging his cheeks, the tips of his ears. God, Billy loved it when he could make _Teddy_ blush.

“Oops,” Billy said, beginning to smile. “My bad.”

“Way to _go_ , Billy,” Jamie said from somewhere very, very far away. A whole different universe, one where worlds didn’t happily revolve around Teddy Altman’s stupidly perfect face. “Unless you were just trying to get his attention. If so, next time try the bend and snap instead. I hear it never fails.”

Teddy’s grip on him tightened for just a moment before he was carefully stepping back again, waiting until Billy was steady on his (admittedly wobbly) legs before letting go. “Please don’t try the bend and snap,” Teddy said. “With us, I’m 99% sure it would end in broken noses and tragic regret.”

“I think you’re right,” Billy managed. He cleared his throat and glanced at Jamie. “Hey, Jamie. Uh, what are you doing out and about before noon?”

Jamie just pulled a face. “Before _nine_ , you mean. It’s like a special brand of torture, I’m telling you. My parents are _torturing_ me.”

Billy and Teddy shared a look. _They_ were on their way to another flying day, which meant hours of Eli and Nate bickering and more bruises piled on top of bruises. For days after, Billy figured his ass would look like a racy alternate posture for Fifty Shades of Grey. _Fifty Shades of Gay_ , he thought, then very carefully _did not_ look at Teddy.

“That’s rough, buddy,” Teddy said to Jamie, clearly still unable to read minds, thank _God_.

“Oh well,” Jamie said. “At least I was awake to stumble across you guys. Where are we headed? Please tell me it’s far, far away from here.”

Billy glanced at Teddy; Teddy glanced at Billy. Their shared look was long and awkward and _heavy_ with all the things neither of them could say. Billy was reminded suddenly, inescapably, of that first day Jamie had stumbled across them on the street. The way Jamie’s face had changed by slow, betrayed degrees still woke him in a cold sweat sometimes. The sudden blankness in his eyes after Billy had done…whatever it was he had done…haunted his dreams.

“I,” Teddy began at the same time Billy started, “ _Jamie_ …” slow and gentle.

Neither of them were particularly subtle about not wanting (not being able to want) Jamie along. Billy winced, digging his nails into the meat of his palms, but Jamie just shrugged. “You’ve got somewhere to be,” he said cheerfully. A little _too_ cheerfully, a subtle Stepford thread to those words. “No biggie. I can catch you later.”

“Right,” Billy said, choking on the words. He dropped his gaze to his sneakers, stomach flip-flopping unhappily. “Definitely. Later.”

_Fuck._

Jamie just bumped their shoulders together, completely unbothered about being put off yet again. A few weeks ago, Jamie would have been hurt, _furious_. He would have rounded on Billy with those words that still rung like pealing bells in his head: _Liar_ _. That’s all you’ve been for weeks, for months now. You liar._

And Billy’s response, tinged with the weight of powers he still didn’t understand: _I don’t want you to feel that way, Jamie_.

And now? Now he simply…didn’t.

God, he was going to be sick.

A big hand fell on Billy’s shoulder, startling him out of his spiral of self-loathing. He looked up to meet worried blue eyes, Teddy tipped toward him as if he could somehow enfold him into his body. As if he could wrap around the gangly odds and ends of Billy and just make everything be okay again—make it so he wasn’t the kind of person who mind-fucked his best friend.

Except he’d mind-fucked Teddy too, hadn’t he? Multiple times—enough that Billy was no longer certain (in those long, dark, terrifyingly introspective hours of the morning, caught in the witching hour and hardly daring to breathe) the number or extent. Had he said something the first time they met that somehow pitched the balance in his favor? Had he made Teddy _like_ him as they exchanged shy smiles and awkward conversation over thrift store CDs? He’d been so aware of Teddy standing there, effortlessly cool in a striped grey hoodie. Gorgeous in a way that made Billy’s toes curl. Maybe that had been the first time. Maybe Teddy would never have looked at him twice without a subtle whammy Billy hadn’t known he was capable of. Maybe… Maybe…

“Okay,” Teddy said, hand sliding up to cup the back of Billy’s neck. He squeezed gently, thumb trailing up into his hair as if Jamie wasn’t _right there_ next to them, watching the exchange with curious dark eyes. “Time for us to go. Uh, hey, Jamie: let’s hang out this weekend, okay?”

He shuffled a step away, and Billy awkwardly moved with him, as if he were a marionette and Teddy had grabbed a handful of his strings. Hell, why not—his arms and legs felt wooden enough.

“You’re on, Donkey Kong,” Jamie said easily, still eerily unperturbed at being ditched. “There’s laser tag going on in Time Square. Which, yes, _Times Square_. Yet, on the other hand, _laser tag_.”

“I could see fit to handing you your ass,” Teddy agreed easily. That hand—practically the only thing anchoring Billy in the moment—slid down his spine with surprising subtlety, warm and steady between his shoulderblades. It took all of Billy’s willpower not to sink gratefully into the touch. “Friday at seven?”

Jamie leaned back against the stoop, grinning. He had to shield his eyes with a hand, squinting and so cheerful Billy almost could have convinced himself it was natural. “It’s a date. Except not a real date, because Billy would bury all my action figures again in a jealous rage; see if he wouldn’t.”

Billy had to look away, down the avenue. The day was in full swing now, the city unfolding by degrees. The traffic was already lined bumper to dinged bumper.

Teddy jostled his shoulder gently, startling him back. He looked between the two of them, guiltily flushed. “Um!”

“I’ll take that for a yes,” Jamie said, then idly flicked his fingers at them. “Go on. I’ll see you guys Friday.”

“At seven,” Teddy agreed; the pressure of his palm increased, and Billy took a shuffling step down the sidewalk, pathetically grateful that Teddy was there to guide him. He felt just…so fucking _sad_ and adrift; so much in opposition to the giddy excitement that had flowed through him early this morning.

“It’s a date,” Billy echoed awkwardly, glancing over his shoulder as they pulled away. Jamie was watching them with a strangely blank expression—content and yet empty of any real emotion, lanky body too loosely sprawled. Too _accepting_. Jamie was never, never this willing to accept Billy’s bullshit. He usually played along because they had been friends since they were toddlers, but always before he’d done it with an eyeroll and a snarky one-liner.

Billy bit his lower lip and looked away, shoulders hunching instinctively forward. “I broke my best friend,” he said, low.

Teddy’s big hand rubbed a slow, soothing circle against his back. “You didn’t,” he said. “You couldn’t. Jamie’s _fine_.”

“That,” Billy protested, pointing over his shoulder; he didn’t even try to hide that they were talking about Jamie. Why bother? It wasn’t as if Jamie was allowed to _care_. Billy had stripped him of his ability to protest his bad treatment because once, during an argument, Billy hadn’t wanted him to _feel that way_. “That’s not _fine_ , Teddy. That’s the exact opposite of _fine_.”

“Okay,” Teddy said. He glanced back too, briefly, before his eyes were locked on Billy again. Zeroed in on his face, like he was trying to tell him something through telepathy. Or was Teddy’s superpower _empathy_ instead? He sure had enough of it. “Okay, no, you’re right. But Jamie isn’t hurt, and he isn’t…uncomfortable. Whatever you _accidentally_ did isn’t making him suffer in any way. So all we can do is just play along with him until we figure out how to reverse the, uh, spell or whatever.”

Billy made a strangled noise, blindly pitching forward. Only Teddy’s quick snag of his elbow kept him from staggering out into the street—he hadn’t even realized they’d reached the intersection. “And how are we going to figure that out?” he demanded. It wasn’t until the words left his mouth that Billy realized it wasn’t a rhetorical question. He was desperately looking to Teddy for _help_ , for guidance, for some kind of knowledge Billy couldn’t seem to grasp on his own.

Which was crazy, because if he should be going to anyone for leadership, it should have been Iron Lad…right? Except Teddy had known he was powered for almost his entire life. He knew how to control his abilities in ways Billy and Eli and even Nate hadn’t quite managed. Maybe… Maybe… Maybe that kind of control could be passed on. Maybe if he flung himself into Teddy’s arms, he could suck some of it out of him via osmosis or something.

Maybe he could attach himself to Teddy’s face and just—gah, no, no, not the time to think of sucking Teddy’s face. (No matter how much insistent parts of him seemed to think otherwise.)

“I have an idea,” Teddy said. “Well, actually, my mom had the idea.”

“Your _mom_ knows?” It came out closer to a yelp than he would have liked, but, but, wow, jeez, that was…unexpected. “Wait, I thought we weren’t telling our parents about, you know, all this.”

Teddy flushed, quickly shaking his head. They were crossing the street, heading instinctively toward Central Park and the ruined mansion. After all this time, Billy figured he could find his way there in his sleep. “No, no, I mean, _no_. She doesn’t know about the Avengers or anything. But, um. She kind of hinted that she put two and two together about _you_. Or, I think she thinks it may be you? But she’s not 100% sure.”

His head was starting to hurt almost as much as his heart. Billy rubbed at his eyes, trying to breathe through it. “So your mom thinks she _thinks_ she knows I’ve got some kind of…you know…” He glanced over at a woman walking a teacup poodle on a spangly pink leash and dropped his voice. “…powers. Which, okay, crazy. But _how_? And,” he added, finally zeroing in past his shock to the most important part, “what does she suggest I _do_? To, uh, fix me?”

“Learn _control_ ,” Teddy corrected. One hand fell to the small of Billy’s back, brushing there and gone again. Even brief as it was, the contact sizzled through Billy’s skin, sending warmth blooming through his body. Like _Teddy_ was the one with some kind of magic or whatever. “There’s nothing about you to fix; you _aren’t_ broken.”

_God, I love you_. Billy wet his lips. “Okay,” he said instead, giving a little nod. He listed just the tiniest bit against Teddy’s side as the mansion came into view. “Not fixing. Learn control. Got it.”

“She gave me some books,” Teddy said. Before Billy could deflate—because seriously, he’d already read the Idiot’s Guide to Surviving Mutation _and_ Manifesting for Dummies—he hastened to add, “She mentioned they were useful when she was teaching me how to control my powers when I was young. I flipped through them last night, and a lot of it seems pretty useless, but there are some things we may want to try.”

Well. That did change things. “I guess it’s worth giving it a go,” Billy mused as they climbed the tall fence—Teddy boosting him over the hardest part. “If—thanks—it helped _you_ out, then maybe it will help me too.”

“Yeah. See?” He lightly jostled their shoulders as they picked their way across the ruined lawn and into the mansion. Billy could already hear Iron Lad running through exercises down in the training room—it echoed up through cracks in the floor in muffled blasts and metallic clangs. “Things aren’t so bad. You’ll learn control, we’ll defeat Kang, you’ll un-whammy Jamie, and everything will be _fine._ ”

Billy wondered, briefly, whether there was time to catch Teddy’s hand in his; to thread their fingers together. To tug him down and kiss him. How, _how_ did Teddy always manage to make him feel like this—brighter inside, like he had swallowed the sun and was filling slowly with light. “I guess so,” Billy agreed quietly. He almost risked it, fingers actually twitching at his sides, but the moment was lost when Teddy nudged him one last time and started down the steps.

Light from the broken window cast in irregular shapes, bathing the rubble in striations of shadow and light. A beam hit Teddy’s face as he glanced back toward Billy, gleaming gold and silver and _blue blue blue_. Billy pitched forward in response, nearly stumbling on his laces as he hurried to catch up, heart racing within the delicate cage of his chest. The suffocating fear was seeping away again, filling with the hope Teddy had given him so casually, as if it weren’t the only lifeline keeping Billy from drowning. How, _how_ was it Teddy always knew exactly what to say to make him feel good inside? He was just— He was so— Teddy was just so—

_“Grargh._ ”

Teddy laughed, continuing down the steps toward the locker room. As they passed the broken-open doors, Billy could just make out a fully kitted-out Eli setting up obstacles as Nate practiced blasting targets. “What was that?” Teddy teased. He nudged the door open and held it for Billy.

“Nothing,” Billy said. He was very, very aware of the heat of Teddy’s big body as he squeezed past him; already, his cheeks felt stupidly flushed. “Just, uh…how did your mom figure out what I could do again?”

There. That was a perfectly normal, perfectly neutral question.

Teddy shrugged a shoulder, toeing off his sneakers and leaning down to tug free his socks. Billy’d already put on his tights beneath his street clothes, but he pushed open his locker to dig out the boots, gloves, and—most importantly—cape. Man, he loved his cape.

“…my bedroom and figured there was no way it could have been repainted _exactly_ the same overnight,” Teddy was saying. He unbuckled his belt and pulled it free with a soft _whsst_ as Billy wriggled out of his jeans. “So, you know. Magic was the only option left. Considering the world we live in, I guess it’s not too far of a stretch.”

“Maybe it was you, though,” Billy pointed out, dropping his bookbag and tugging off his shirt. “A new power or something.”

Teddy snorted. “Yeah, I don’t know. Strength, endurance, shapeshifting _and_ magic? That’d be kind of a mixed bag.”

Billy balled up his shirt and tossed it into his locker, kicking his jeans in after it. The cape was hanging on a hook just inside the door, mostly covering the mirror. He reached up to snag it as he stepped into his boots, so used to the sight of himself in tights that he no longer startled at his own reflection anymore. “Any more mixed than Legion?”

“…okay, point.”

“Darn right _point_ ,” Billy said, tugging his cape down with a flurry of red fabric. “In fact…”

But his words trailed off, his voice catching and breaking, his brain derailing and his whole _body_ seized as he glanced into the mirror and spotted Teddy over his shoulder.

Teddy, standing across the locker room, shirt folded on the bench next to him and jeans in his hands. Blue plaid boxers hanging low off his hipbones to reveal all the way from the tight line of his abs to his muscular chest very lightly brushed with golden hair to his big big _big_ shoulders and biceps and _holy cow_.

He was just _standing there_ , gorgeous and mostly naked and like every guilty gym class fantasy come to life—so much so that Billy instinctively hunched in on himself before he realized oh, _oh_ , this was Teddy; this was his _boyfriend_. For once in his life, Billy was actually _allowed to look_.

…wasn’t he?

Crap! He had no idea! They hadn’t exactly covered oogling in the short 24 hours they’d been dating. In all the other practices—before—Billy had been careful not to be in this situation, knowing he wouldn’t be able to help but stare. But now… Could he? Should he?

What if it wasn’t okay? What if he was violating Teddy’s privacy right now? What if Teddy wasn’t interested in things being…um, _charged_ …between them? (Though he’d seem pretty darn into things getting sexual in the pool and _oh my God_ , he needed to stop thinking about the pool right the fuck now; needed to stop thinking about the smell of chlorine and the cool brush of water over his skin as Teddy licked deep into his mouth and drove his hips back against—)

Teddy looked up at what had to be an incredibly awkward silence and met his gaze in the mirror. There was a flash of surprise there at whatever he saw in Billy’s eyes. Then, slowly, understanding. As if he knew _exactly_ what Billy was thinking. As if he could read every single filthy thought tumbling through his head.

_He knows_ , Billy thought, titillated and frightened and turned on. _He knows I was staring; he knows I want… I… I’m…_

Teddy turned toward him, setting his jeans aside. “Billy,” he said.

And Billy panicked.

He dropped his cape in a dramatic flutter of red fabric and slammed the locker door shut, cheeks so hot he thought he might spontaneously combust. He took a jerky step toward the door before freezing, torn. Did he want to run? Or did he want to stay and see how things played out? Fuck, his common sense and his churning fantasies were in direct conflict and he _didn’t know what to do._ His breath caught high and tight in his chest and—and he didn’t so much wear an athletics cup as some sports padding to keep important bits from getting kneed during one of Eli’s less graceful moments, and _holy crap_ it was doing absolutely _nothing_ to hide his growing excitement. Teddy knew, he had to know, he—

 Billy squeezed his eyes shut and listened to the frantic race of his heart. And beneath that, so quiet he almost missed it…the sound of footfalls.

_Oh God, oh God, oh my God,_ Billy thought, biting his bottom lip. He felt like an old computer slowly booting up after years of disuse—systems coming alive one by one by one, slotting together as his insides churned…with anticipation, with growing embarrassed arousal, with hope…and everything in him _yearned_.

_Touch me_ , Billy thought wildly, hyperaware of Teddy stopping right next to him. Close, so close. _Please, oh please oh please._

“Billy,” Teddy said—voice low and a little husky, as if he felt exactly what Billy did. As if he couldn’t _help_ but feel it. “You know… I mean. You _should_ know… I _want_ you to know…” He sighed, and Billy could hear Teddy drag his hand over his face. “I just want you to know that, um. If you want to look at me…you can. You’re allowed. If…if you want, I mean.” He gave an awkward laugh. “I mean, we are _boyfriends_ , right?”

_Oh_ , Billy thought, heat blooming through his blood, making his whole body _burn_. _Oh yes_. _Yes, please, yes._

Breath catching in his chest, Billy slowly slowly slowly turned to face Teddy, chin tipping up…and opened his eyes.


	4. Teenage Dream

**TEDDY**

****

_Okay_ , Teddy thought, heart in his throat. _Okay, okay, this is okay. This is all going to go okay_.

Right?

Oh, oh crap, he had no idea what he was doing, and he _really really_ hoped it actually was okay. Would Billy tell him if it wasn’t? Usually Billy wasn’t shy about making his annoyance clear, but… But this was different. _They_ were different, now, and Teddy had never been in this kind of position before.

Things with Greg had always been _easy_ , weirdly, despite how hard it all got later. All Teddy had had to do was show Greg his powers and Greg had slung his arm around Teddy’s shoulders and taken control as easy as breathing. He’d whispered his preferences in Teddy’s ear, walked him through that first cautious shift into a form that felt like-him-but-not, cupped her jaw and kissed her and kissed her and…

Teddy wet his lips and set aside his folded jeans. Billy was just standing there, eyes squeezed shut and cheeks berry red. He wasn’t moving, but he wasn’t inviting Teddy forward either. He was just standing there, not taking charge; not acting. Not giving Teddy any clues.

Except…well. That wasn’t _exactly_ true, now, was it?

Teddy’s gaze dropped down the lean, spandex-clad line of Billy before quickly jerking back up. God, was Billy turned on? That… That had to be a good sign, right? That had to mean…something. That he wanted something. Or that he was at least receptive? Or…

 _Move, Altman_ , Teddy told himself, and he took a stumbling step forward, very nearly tripping over the bench. He looked over, mortified, but Billy’s eyes were still closed. He was breathing fast—they were both breathing fast—and his lips were parted. He looked, suddenly, like he had in that pool: broken open with _want_ , waiting for Teddy to make the first move.

 _This is okay_ , Teddy told himself, crossing the cool tiles one unsteady step at a time. _I think this is okay. And if it isn’t, then I’ll just…sink through the cracks in the floor and never ever come out again._

As plans went, it was a pretty shitty one, but hey: every gay superhero needed to start somewhere.

Teddy stopped right in front of Billy, feeling ridiculously naked. _Exposed_ , as if more than a few layers of clothes had been stripped away. He opened his mouth, then shut it, caught by the dark fan Billy’s lashes made against his cheeks. Mesmerized by the way the tips of his ears turned a brighter red than his face, the way his messy snarls of hair created wild shadows all around him, the way his breath caught in his chest and his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip.

He wanted— He _wanted_ —

Christ, he didn’t know. He wanted so much he wasn’t sure he had words for it anymore.

“Billy,” Teddy managed. He had to clear his throat, shifting from foot to foot and all too ridiculously aware of how close they were standing. Should he take a step back? Too late now. “You know… I mean. You _should_ know… I _want_ you to know…” He stopped and sighed. Dragged his hand over his face. “I just want you to know that, um. If you want to look at me…you can. You’re allowed. If…if you want, I mean.” God, that sounded so awkward and dumb out loud. Teddy laughed, fighting the urge to grab Billy’s forgotten cloak and wrap it around himself like a human burrito. Was he always this naked in just his boxers? Or was it something about knowing Billy was _right there_ next to him that made the thin stretch of material feel positively indecent? “I mean,” he tried, “we are _boyfriends_ , right?”

_Right?_

He really, really hoped he was doing this right. Greg had always made it seem so easy. Effortless. Assumptions made and steps taken and no fuss to be had. But then, _he_ wasn’t Greg. He never wanted to be like Greg ever, ever again. And _he_ was going to make sure they both had permission to look, to kiss, to touch, even if it killed him.

(And considering the way his heart was pounding, he wasn’t ruling out the idea that this just may kill him.)

Billy let out a harsh breath, teeth catching on his lower lip. He jerked his head once in something very like a nod…and slowly blinked open his eyes. They were, oh, so very dark. Darker than usual, pupils expanding even as Teddy watched. It made him look even more serious than usual; it made him look _beautiful_. The way those dark dark dark eyes swept down Teddy’s body in a shy caress had his stomach tightening in reflexive pleasure.

He just, he, Billy was, it was all so—

 _Fuck_ , yeah, he wanted to kiss him. More than he wanted anything.

“Um,” Billy said, and Teddy gave a strained laugh, one hand swiping over his face again. It was crazy just how much he wanted to step into Billy’s space and just let instinct and hormones take over. “Sorry. Habit. From gym class? And all the—I don’t even know what I’m saying. I could be speaking in German or— Or Elvish, because, um, _wow_.”

Teddy flushed. “Yeah?” he said, and immediately regretted it. That sounded way, way too much like fishing for compliments. “I mean—”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Billy said. “Really, really _yeah_. You’re… You’re just… I mean.” He gestured, taking in Teddy’s body, then let out a shaky laugh of his own. It sounded just a few inches shy of hysterics, and God, Teddy could _relate_. Things had been different in the pool. Back then, he hadn’t really been letting himself think just how much he wanted Billy. He _couldn’t_ let himself think about it, because he knew (knew deep in the most earnest, most honest parts of himself) that no matter what, he couldn’t _have_ him. Not when he was still living a lie. Not when things were still so fucked up with Greg. He could give himself permission to pull Billy only so far into his own bullshit and no farther.

But something about that night had been transformative. Maybe it was the hushed quiet, the soft slap of water against tile, the way their every breath had been magnified. Maybe it was the blue-green light, or the sight of stars through the skylight, or the easy excuse of alcohol, or just… _proximity_ and _want_ colliding in a shower of sparks.

That moment had been impulsive and uncontrollable, the two of them combusting. This… This felt more _real_ somehow. More deliberate. More Teddy and Billy, new freaking _boyfriends_ , figuring out where the line in the sand should be drawn after so many months dancing around each other.

And because it was them, and because it was real, and because it meant so much for their futures, it was also really, _really_ awkward. But hey, Teddy figured, if anyone could make awkwardly work, it was them.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve never felt this naked,” Teddy said honestly.

Billy immediately flapped a hand at him, squawking. “ _Oh my God_ , don’t say that right now. You have no idea how much I don’t need to be thinking about you…crap.” He covered his eyes with one hand.

“Sorry,” Teddy said, flushing hard even as he began to grin.

“No you’re not,” Billy groaned.

“No,” he agreed, grin slowly growing wider and wider. “I guess not.” Awkward and weird or not, he was starting to see the charm in _real_. Because the pool had been a crazy fantasy, but this was so very _them_. And it just made him want to be kissing Billy all the more. “Hey, um. Feel free to say no if you’re not ready or into it or, you know, anything, but I was wondering if I could—”

“ _Yes_ ,” Billy said, tipping forward into his arms before he could even finish getting the words out. Teddy almost didn’t catch him in time, jerking back in surprise at the other boy’s headlong rush. Then just as suddenly, Billy pulled out of his arms; Teddy was left standing there, brows knit, a thousand and one questions circling in his head. Before confusion could give way to self-doubt, however, Billy cleared his throat. “Oh, hi, sorry, finish what you were saying,” he said, giving a vague sort of gesture. He paused. “But the answer’s still yes. You know. Just for your reference.”

Teddy let out a strangled half-laugh. “Um, good to know.”

Billy winced. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s just, I’ve been thinking about this for a _really long time_ , and you’re standing there in your underwear looking… Looking like _you_ , and I just, I’m maybe going a little crazy, but um, you like me like this, so…” He cleared his throat. “You _do_ like me like this, right? A little weird? Because if not, I’m sorry to say it’s too late: you’re my boyfriend now. No takebacks, returns or exchanges.”

“You’re _perfect_ ,” Teddy said, impulsively cupping big palms along the sharp line of Billy’s jaw. He leaned in, brushing their lips together in a kiss so light it was almost a question itself—a shared breath, a barest hint of pressure, a warmth blossoming slow and sweet in his chest.

Billy made a low noise and curled his fingers around Teddy’s wrists, holding on tight. He rocked up onto his toes, kissing _back_ —keeping it light and sweet and almost chaste for all the tension that was zinging between them.

 _Oh_ , Teddy thought. His eyes drifted closed as the kiss extended, stretching longer and longer, sweeter and sweeter as neither of them pulled away. It was…it was _bright_ , somehow; or maybe it just made him feel bright, as if he’d swallowed the sun. Billy’s lips were warm and chapped against his. His breath gusted against Teddy’s mouth, and his thumbs kept swiping over the thundering pulse at his wrists. Every now and again, Billy’s lips would part against his in a question, but neither of them took that step to deepen the kiss.

Not yet.

Oh, God, not yet. Not when this was already good enough it could very well kill him.

Teddy shivered, sliding his fingertips along the sharp line of Billy’s jaw up to the soft hairs at his temple. He pressed in just a little more, thrilling at the way Billy melted back against the lockers—boneless and so willing it was a madness breaking just beneath his skin.

He wanted— He—

“Billy,” he murmured, hands sliding up—thumbs tracing the delicate shell of those slightly too-big ears. Billy made an inarticulate noise, practically pooling at Teddy’s feet even as his hands dropped to his bare chest, splayed wide. Hot skin on hot skin.

They both froze.

Teddy squeezed his eyes shut tighter, but he didn’t pull away. If his heart had been racing before, now it was trying to pound right out of his chest. His knees felt all kinds of wobbly, and, and, and _Billy’s hands were on him_.

Billy pulled back just the slightest bit and sucked in a breath. Not entirely sure he’d survive whatever he’d see on Billy’s face, Teddy cautiously opened his eyes—and yeah, fuck, no, _no_ , the sheer awed hunger on those sharp features was enough to make his cock jerk in response. God, he was already so hard it was starting to become a _problem_ , the ache unfurling low in his belly as Billy’s hands slowly slid down the ridged line of his abs.

“Oh…well… _crap_ ,” Billy said, sounding dazed. He bit his bottom lip hard enough that the skin bled white, then looked up to meet Teddy’s eyes. His own eyes were huge, a fathomless dark. In spandex that tight, there was _no_ hiding exactly how excited Billy was. “Um, um, wow. Teddy. So. Just. _Gragh_.”

“Gragh?” Teddy tried to laugh it off, but he felt flushed and hyperaware of his own body. It was taking everything he had not to push into Billy’s space, grab his sharp hipbones and, and—just, _rock_ their hips together. What would it feel like, Billy’s cock so, so hard against his own? For all that sex wasn’t exactly new to him, _this_ was a strange new world, and _fuck_ but he wanted to know how it felt. “Translate that for me. Was _that_ German? Elvish?”

Billy gave his chest a little smack, but he followed immediately when Teddy rocked back onto his heels; he was rising up onto the balls of his feet, straining to get closer. Teddy could feel the heat being cast off him, and if he just shifted his hips a _little_ … “It’s a good thing you’re so pretty,” Billy joked, palms sliding shyly up Teddy’s chest to span his big shoulders. “Because you’re not half as funny as you think you are.”

“Oh, excuse me,” Teddy said. On impulse, he grabbed Billy’s hips, grip deliberately tight. “I’ll have you know I’m _hysterical_.”

“Oh my God,” Billy spoke over him, eyes gone _huge_. Teddy very nearly let go in a panic, but Billy was pushing forward—arms around his neck, body _cleaving_ to his, rocking up onto his toes as he fought to get close. “Oh my God, okay, wow, oh my— _fuck._ ” His lashes flickered, eyes closing, and yeah, yeah, Teddy agreed. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , because Billy was close, he was really really close, and… And Teddy could _feel him_ , erection a brand against his hip, his own pushed against Billy’s stomach, impossible to deny.

“Billy,” Teddy whispered, but Billy was already turning his face blindly toward his, catching his mouth in a hungry demand of a kiss. It was instantly too much and not nearly enough, Billy’s lips parting, tongue brushing against Teddy’s lower lip until Teddy was moaning into his mouth and clutching at his skinny back. It was the opposite of their kiss before—going deep, deep, _deeper_ with every second that passed, shy awkwardness forgotten in a sudden rush to have absolutely everything. Teddy swiped his tongue against Billy’s and urged it into his mouth; he closed his lips around the hot thrust and _sucked_ , riding out the frantic buck of Billy’s hips.

It was messy and needy and perfectly overwhelming. The lean muscles of Billy’s back bunched beneath his hands as he slid his palms down down down to— _oh God_ —stop at the dip of his spine, _wanting_ to cup his ass but still not sure where the boundaries were. Was this okay? Could he—

Billy pushed against him again, fingers digging into the muscles along his shoulders, and thrust his tongue deep into Teddy’s mouth. His hips moved with the rhythm, graceless and seeking, and that may not have been full permission, but instinct was taking over. Teddy slid his hands down, ready to yank away at the first sign of protest, molding his fingers around the tight swell of Billy’s ass and…shifting him, just a little, hoisting him up higher against his body when Billy hummed approval…

…and very nearly _dropping him_ when the motion brought their cocks into sudden, all-too-perfect alignment.

“Fuck!” Teddy hissed, breaking the kiss on a stuttering gasp, even as Billy dug his nails _deep_ into his skin and whispered, “ _oh my god oh my god oh my god_.”

It was, it, he just, _fuck_ , _fuck_ , Billy felt good. He felt— He needed to—

Teddy walked Billy back a step, pressing him against the wall of lockers again, and shifted his grip on those narrow hips. He pulled Billy up against him, feet dangling a good inch off the floor, and pressed an open-mouthed kiss against the curve of his neck even as he gave an experimental thrust of his hips. White-hot _pleasure_ radiated through him, a shockwave so intense he almost growled with it, pushing forward again, _again_.

Billy scrabbled against him for purchase, breaths coming in heaving gasps. His legs swung uselessly, toes just barely grazing the tile floor, before he suddenly hooked one thigh around Teddy’s waist. Teddy grunted in agreement, biting at the soft skin of his throat, up to his earlobe, rutting in against him in a long, _slow_ grind.

That gave Billy just enough leverage to wrap his other leg around Teddy’s hip. He slammed his head back, hitting the lockers with a metallic clatter, and panted down at Teddy with a crooked, feral sort of grin. His eyes were bright and dark at once, his color high, his hair a wild nest. He looked so improbably beautiful that Teddy _never_ wanted to stop kissing him.

“Holy crap, Teddy,” Billy said; his voice was so strained it barely sounded like his. “Are we going for second base? Because if so, I’m totally in.”

He laughed, the joy bubbling out of him, and kissed Billy’s chin. His jawline. Back to his mouth until they were melting together, tongues brushing with slowly increasing grace. Teddy shifted his hips and rode out the jerking, frantic motion of Billy’s body, his own control held by the most tenuous of threads. “Is… God. What even _are_ the bases?” he murmured into Billy’s mouth.

Billy bit at his tongue; he sucked away the sting. “I don’t know,” he said. His hands were back to roving restlessly over Teddy’s bare shoulders and chest. He couldn’t seem to stop moving his hips in increasingly restless ruts. “First base, touchdown, Yahtzee, home run; _who cares_? I just, you feel good. You feel— I want— What are we even doing, _oh my God_ , please, do that again.”

Teddy laughed again because it felt so _perfect_. He’d never wanted to laugh when he’d done this sort of stuff with Greg before. That had always seemed so serious, so…closed-down. Kissing Billy, moving against him, necking like the teenagers they were—it made Teddy feel like he was origami being unfolded one colorful page at a time.

“We should,” he started to say, but he found he couldn’t finish the words. He knew exactly what they should and shouldn’t be doing; top of the list was making out where Nate and Eli could find them. Or, or, shit what was it called when you—

His head was too cloudy to think; the slick glide of his tongue against Billy’s, the bursting heat of their bodies rocking together, the building pressure deep in his stomach expanding slowly out and out and out until each thrust grew more ragged, more _desperate_ , more, just _more_ …it was making his limbs feel weighted and his head feel light and his whole body tense as if he were closing into a fist as Billy _whined_ and bucked up against him and—

“Frottage,” Teddy remembered suddenly, word nearly lost against Billy’s mouth.

Billy bit at his lower lip, rolling it between his teeth and _tugging_. Their breaths came in twin, heaving pants. “Well, if you insist,” he said.

But before Teddy could think of an appropriate response to that—or simply just lose himself back in the _yesfuckpleasemore_ grind—Eli’s voice came shouting through the swinging door:

“If you’re in there swapping Pokémon stats, I have every right to kick your _asses_.”

Teddy jerked away immediately, nearly sending Billy tumbling ignominiously to the hard tile floor. Only quick reflexes—plus all those trust falls Nate had insisted on—had him catching his boyfriend against his chest…and slowly, carefully lowering him to his feet.

Teddy looked down at Billy’s flushed face; Billy looked up at his. They both separated at the same time, Billy snagging his forgotten cape and holding it far-too-casually across his front while Teddy retreated back to his locker to shove on his practice shorts as quickly as possible. He _shifted_ as he went, skin flushing green and muscles rippling as they grew.

Behind him, Billy actually _whimpered_.

“ _Asgardian!”_ Eli snapped. _“Hulkling!_ ”

“This,” Billy said with a gusting breath, “is really scarily close to my _oops I went to school naked_ dream. Except somehow a hundred thousand times more embarrassing because _spandex_ and…and _Eli and Nate_ and _holy crap_ you look so good. I just, I. It’s unfair how good you look.”

Teddy rubbed at the back of his neck, yanking down his huge muscle T. Nothing else really worked for quick shifting, but the material was thin enough that he still felt sort of, well, _bare_. Exposed. Hot beneath the collar, even as he shifted the worst of the evidence away. “Sorry,” he said, voice a deep bass rumble.

Billy bit his lip and _shivered_ again, metal clanging as he flopped back against his locker. His knuckles were white where he gripped his cape. “ _Unfair_.” He closed his eyes and tipped back his head just as Eli _stormed_ into the room.

“ _What are you two_ ,” Eli began—but he paused when he spotted Teddy hulked out and fully dressed, Billy slumped back and looking pained. “Oh,” Eli said. Then, glancing at Billy again. “Are you…okay?”

Teddy felt a sudden, irrepressible urge to _laugh_ , but he swallowed it down and said, quiet, “Start of a migraine, I think. Maybe you, me and Nate can start without him?”

Eli’s concerned expression melted into a frown, then back to concern when Billy clutched the cape tighter against his body (deftly hiding any lingering proof of his arousal) and _whined_. Eyes still closed, because no way Billy would be able to hide how dark and fucked-stupid and…and _perfect_ they were otherwise. “Oh, well. Fine,” Eli said. He started to turn away, then swung back, a faint line between his brows. This, Teddy could tell, was going to be one of his good days—where he didn’t take out his aggression on the crumbling old building. Where he maybe didn’t even fight with Nate.

Well. Fight _too much_ with Nate.

“Go ahead and rest,” Eli told Billy. “Feel better. You can join us when you’re ready. Come on, Hulkling,” he added, turning back on his heel and storming out. “We’ve got work to do.”

“Aye aye, General,” Teddy agreed, voice pitched _sotto_. He glanced back at Billy, meeting his now-open eyes as the locker room door swung shut behind Eli. “Are you going to be, um…okay?”

Billy smiled, lips curving wryly. “Nothing that thinking a few awful thoughts won’t cure. You know: Kang on his way to kill us all. Loki in a mini-skirt. How close we were to being _caught_.”

“Oops,” Teddy agreed, nodding sagely. “Next time, not at practice.”

“Yeah,” Billy breathed, lashes flickering as his eyes dropped to Teddy’s mouth. That heat, banked by Eli’s sudden appearance, flickered between them again. Hot and alive and thrumming with promise. “Um. _Next_ time.” But before Teddy could do more than take a step toward him—because apparently Billy was irresistible or something—he straightened. “No, go, shoo. The _Captain_ is waiting for you.”

Teddy pointed at him. “He’d kick your ass if he heard you call him that.”

“He’d have to catch it first,” Billy retorted. “I can fly, remember?”

Teddy started walking backwards out of the locker room, _grinning._ Holy shit, had he and Billy really been making out at the Avenger’s Mansion? Sometimes he really wished he could hop into a time machine and tell younger him just how awesome his life was going to turn out if he just held on a little bit longer. _It’s going to get better_ , he could have said. _It may not feel like it now, but I promise you, it will._ “Yeah, so,” Teddy said, “I’m not sure I’d call what you do _flying_.”

“Yeah, _so_ ,” Billy said, “I’d have a really witty retort for that if my brain wasn’t, you know, still fried. So, um. Good work breaking your boyfriend and please _go away now_ so I can get over this ‘headache’ in peace.”

And here he thought his grin couldn’t get any wider. “Okay,” Teddy said, reaching the door. “I’ll um, leave you alone and…see you later.”

“See you later,” Billy echoed, _soft_ , and it took every bit of strength Teddy had to keep going and _not_ go racing back to him—not catch him up against his body, not dig his fingers into messy dark hair, not kiss him and kiss him and kiss him until this thing between them came to a natural conclusion: white-hot and breathless and needy and, just…

 _Perfect_.

Somehow, awkward and real was so, so very perfect.

He didn’t stop smiling all through practice. (Not even later when Billy’s ‘flying’ landed all four of them in a graceless heap on the floor. _Again_.) He thought maybe, if things kept going like this, he never would.


	5. Helter Skelter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for description of a minor panic attack. If that could trigger you, please skip this chapter.
> 
> Many thanks to peachnouis and galifreygirl357 for their help!

**BILLY**

“So, hey,” Teddy said almost too-casually as Billy pushed past the swinging locker room doors and jogged down the hall to join him. It was late Friday afternoon and Nate and Eli were still locked in some kind of epic power struggle or whatever in the practice room; their raised voices echoed through the ruined mansion. “I was thinking—”

“We are _not_ getting involved,” Billy interrupted. He slung his backpack over one shoulder, assorted self-help books tumbling around inside. Yeesh, who knew getting control of weird reality-warping powers could _literally_ be so heavy? “No way, no how. They can figure it out by themselves this time.”

Teddy’s lips curved into a crooked smile. “How do you know that was what I was going to suggest?” he asked, falling into step with Billy as he sailed by.

Billy just snorted, reaching out with only a small swarm of butterflies to snag Teddy’s hand. “Um, because I know you and you’re perfect and I saw the way you were looking at them and, oh yeah, _I know you_. If we had it your way, we’d play referee for every fight and never get to do _anything_.”

“But,” Teddy began.

Billy waved a teasingly warning finger under his nose. “No! No buts. We have a date with Jamie and laser tag tonight. I don’t care if he’s all weird and Stepford-y now. We promised that we’d be there, and I’ve been blowing promises to him left and right for like _ages_ now, so we are _going_ to keep this one. Those guys can figure it out themselves.”

There was a deafening crash from the practice room, followed by an angry shout.

Teddy lifted his brows, but Billy just shrugged. “If they’re still yelling, they’re still alive,” he said philosophically. “Come on; I want to try to get in a little reading before Jamie shows up.”

“Is it helping any?” Teddy asked. He kept throwing glances over his shoulder, but he stuck by Billy’s side as they sailed out of the Avengers Mansion and toward the far high wall. “Did you get to that chapter I marked for you?”

“Not—” He braced himself as Teddy offered him a literal leg up, boosting Billy over the fence before vaulting to join him on the other side. “ _Thanks_. Not yet. I tried to get through it last night, but Mom decided it was a family bonding night. There were board games,” he added at Teddy’s curious noise. “It was hell. I’m lucky I made it through.”

Teddy laughed and lightly bumped their shoulders together. “Board games sound nice,” he said.

“Maybe with _your_ family they are,” Billy said darkly. “But you’ve had a chance to meet mine; you _know_ how last night turned out. Anyway, after about the billionth fight plus a mini-scare where we were 99% sure Andy had deliberately swallowed some meeples just to get sent to the emergency room and put out of his misery…” Teddy snorted. “…it was too late to get much reading done. I’ll try to slip it in here and there during our laser tag date. Jamie’s usually running all across the field; he’ll never notice.”

“Yeah,” Teddy said. He paused, then wet his lips. “Oh, _hey_ ,” he added as they started across the street, jogging as the light began to flash. “Speaking of dates…”

Billy’s cheeks heated. “Yes?” he prompted. It was possible— _possible_ —that he’d been repeating the word on purpose, hoping Teddy would take the hint.

Teddy glanced over at him; his own face was flushed, though that could have been thanks to the heat of the day. New York was sweltering, sidewalk steaming beneath their feet as they fell in step, heading toward the nearest subway. “I was thinking,” Teddy said, “that maybe we could, um, try going on a few? This may be a dumb idea, but—”

“Nope, not dumb; I’m in,” Billy said all in a rush. He grinned. “I mean, hi, yes. Okay.”

“…but you have no idea what you’re saying yes to,” Teddy pointed out. “I could be suggesting a nice date of picking up trash along the Jersey Shore.”

“Would I get a kiss at the end?” Billy asked. “If so, sounds like a great date; sign me up.”

He laughed, nudging against Billy. Their hands brushed, caught, held—just for a moment. The contact sent a thrill up Billy’s spine. “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind. Actually, I was thinking we could go back to tackling the epic New York City museum trawl. Maybe start from the beginning? Like…a clean slate.”

A clean slate. God, that sounded great.

“Yeah,” Billy breathed, remembering all the places they’d visited together. It had been fun—it had been _wonderful_ —but it had also been tainted by his desperate, hopeless pining. His _longing_ like a sickness in his gut. The thought of retracing his steps with Teddy now that they knew each other so much better, now that there was honesty and trust between them, now that he was allowed to _have this_ …

Yeah. That sounded pretty fucking fantastic, actually.

“Yeah?” Teddy echoed, biting his lower lip, as if he were having the very same thought. “Okay, cool. Cool. Um.” Then he laughed. “Two tickets to the Museum of SEX _coming right up_.”

Billy groaned and thwacked his shoulder, but he felt so bright and _light_ inside that he couldn’t swallow his laughter. _It’s funny_ , he thought, grin so wide his cheeks actually hurt, _that this could be my last summer alive—and it’s the happiest one I’ve ever had_.

**

The cavernous room was dark and filled with blue smoke. It twisted and bloomed under the intermittent black lights, creating strange shapes before dissipating at the next rush of laughing kids. Safety tape had been tacked up along the sharp edges of mock buildings—a saloon here, a high-rise there, a spaceship far to the eastern wing of the sprawling complex.

“I’m not sure the designers were particularly dedicated to a theme here,” Teddy mused. He held his gun loosely between his hands; his vest’s bright blue flashing target cast his features in striations of shadow and light.

Billy shot him a glance. “Teddy,” he said. “Focusing here.”

Teddy immediately turned from a study of the small hunters blind they’d claimed. “Right,” he said dutifully. “Focusing.”

Billy swallowed back a grin and tilted the worn paperback so his own flashing (red) light caught the words. He’d scribbled notes in the margins over the last week, highlighting the most relevant passages and blocking out anything that felt like bullshit.

Of course, he was trying to learn to control uncertain magical powers using _Positive Thinking and You!_ It all pretty much felt like bullshit.

“Do you remember the _exact_ words I used?” Billy asked for what had to be the hundredth time. “Was it _I wish_ or _I want_? Or was it more like _you will_?”

Teddy shrugged a powerful shoulder. In the strange, smoke-filled dim of Time Square’s Laser Quest, he looked more like the mysterious stranger he used to be than the boyfriend he’d become. Each flash of neon light brought out a new side to him, as if Teddy were shifting from moment to moment, breath to breath. As if he were no more substantial than the twisting blue smoke itself.

Billy reached out impulsively to catch Teddy’s arm. It was solid beneath his grip; real. When Teddy covered his fingers with his own big hand, Billy couldn’t hide the helpless grin.

Forget his powers; _this_ was the magic that counted.

Still, it didn’t help to get _too_ googly-eyed—especially not when their mission was so important. “You’re not helping,” Billy said, twisting his hand to give Teddy’s fingers a brief squeeze before (reluctantly) letting go. He shifted so the open book resettled on his knees. Outside their little blind, lasers fired and kids laughed. “Do you remember anything?”

“I remember a flash of blue light and a lot of shock, mostly,” Teddy admitted, tipping his blond head toward the page. “And…” Teddy closed his eyes. “ _I don’t want you here._ ”

Billy winced. Of _course_ Teddy would fixate on that. “Have I mentioned lately how much I suck?” he said, tipping so their shoulders were pressed together. “Because I do, I totally suck. _And_ I’m a dirty liar who lies like a lying thing.”

Teddy tilted his chin; their faces were so close together, he could feel the even gusts of his breath. Billy’s lips parted in near-Pavlovian response despite (or maybe because of) the intensity of the moment. “Billy,” Teddy murmured, in that gentle way he had. “You don’t have to keep apologizing to me. Not unless you’re going to let me apologize to _you_ again too.”

“Nope,” Billy said immediately. “Not happening.”

“Well then,” Teddy said. He lifted his brows, amused acceptance clear on his face.

Billy’s lips curved into an irrepressible return smile. He still got a thrill out of being able to read Teddy’s expressions—out of Teddy _letting_ him read his expressions. The show of trust wasn’t lost on him, and God but how it mattered to him. “Impasse?” he offered.

“Impasse.”

“You know,” Billy added, tipping subtly (or perhaps not-so-subtly, if he wanted to be completely honest with himself…which he rarely did) closer, “you’re pretty cute for an impasse. Have I ever told you that?”

Teddy laughed—and _flushed_ , maybe, probably. It was hard to tell in the dark. “Billy,” he said, nudging Billy’s shoulder. Lingering at the touch because as improbable as it still seemed, they were in this breathless obsession together. “ _Focusing_.”

“But why would I want to be _focusing_ when I could be _oogling_?” he whined, laughing and ducking away at Teddy’s mock-scowl. “Okay, okay— _focusing_. I’m focusing. I’m _so_ focusing. I’m—”

A sudden flare of light distracted him from the flirtation, a red beam slicing across his face down to his— “Ah, crap, _incoming_ ,” Billy groused, dropping the dog-eared book and grabbing for his half-forgotten gun.

Teddy was already moving up into an easy, _graceful_ crouch, plastic gun swinging for his target even as Billy’s vest gave a shuddering jolt. It shook hard enough to rattle his teeth, red target flashing flashing flashing like an emergency siren. Jamie popped out from the mock-chapel across the way, cackling and dodging Teddy’s answering beam with a twist of his skinny hips. He was lost to blue smoke in seconds.

“Dang it,” Teddy said. He lowered his gun. “I almost had him that time.” He glanced back at Billy. “He get you?”

“Yup. It’s too late for me, Teddy; I’m dead,” Billy said, swanning back in a swoon at Teddy’s arched brow. “ _Go_. Save yourself.”

Teddy shrugged a philosophical shoulder and began to rise. He laughed at Billy’s squawk of protest, however, and sank back onto his heels before he could get too far. His happy grin was the brightest point in the whole room—maybe the whole world. (The whole _universe_.) “Oh, hey, looks like you may survive after all. It’s a miracle.”

“It was touch and go for a minute there,” Billy said, levering himself back up. He shot Teddy what was supposed to be a glare, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his own face. God, being in love was insufferable. If it didn’t feel so damned good, he wouldn’t be able to stand himself. “Thank God you’re not the kind of boyfriend who’d desert me in my time of need.”

“Nope,” Teddy agreed easily. He snagged the book, holding it closed over his thumb. “Solid and dependable is practically my middle name.”

Billy leaned instinctively closer again, tipping against the broad expanse of Teddy’s body this time. He was so warm, so big, so… _sweet._ When Billy drew in a breath, his lungs were filled with the clean scent of his sweat and that light cologne he seemed to favor—like the crash of distant waves. “Theodore Solid and Dependable Rufus Altman,” he murmured, tipping his head up even as Teddy tilted his down. He could feel the hot breath against his cheeks; his mouth. The proximity was starting to make Billy’s stomach twist in coils of pleasure—like he’d somehow managed to swallow all the bright, dancing lights. Would there ever be a time when Teddy didn’t make him feel like this? Hot and aching and indescribably happy all at once. “It’s a bit of a mouthful, but I guess it’ll do.”

Teddy shifted his weight and slipped his free arm around Billy’s waist, tugging him even closer—close enough that their bodies were seamed together from shoulder to waist to hip. Close enough that any moment could be the start of a kiss. “I’ll show you a mouthful,” he said, voice pitched low and gorgeously hot…then he blinked and pulled away. This time, his blush was so bright Billy could see it easily even in the darkened room. “Um, wow, _poor_ word choice.”

“Um,” Billy agreed, flushing right along with him. And, yeah, okay, a little turned on. “Maybe a little.”

“Maybe a _lot_ ,” Jamie agreed out of nowhere, sticking his face through one of the blind’s small arrowslit windows. Billy and Teddy immediately jolted apart as if they’d been caught doing…doing… _something_ …and Teddy grabbed for his gun, but Jamie was already firing.

The beam of red light cut between them and Teddy jerked, blue target flaring. “Dang it,” he sighed, lowering his gun.

“God, you guys _suck_ at this game!” Jamie cackled, and fired again, just for the hell of it. “Die, die you fiend!”

Teddy laughed and obligingly slumped back, playing dead, and weirdly… _Weirdly_ , seeing that, something unexpected snapped in Billy’s head. Sudden and hard, like a punch he couldn’t have seen coming, swinging to slam into his chest.

His breath caught; his heart seized. His thoughts turned uselessly over and over like a flooded engine, and oh God, oh fuck, oh _fuck_ , Teddy.

Teddy _dead_.

It didn’t make sense. It didn’t make— Billy _knew_ it was all a stupid game. He _knew_. He did. But even though he’d just been doing the exact same thing a few minutes ago, even though there were flashing neon lights and kids laughing and smoke machines and and and all of fucking Times Square just outside that blacked-out window, something about the sight of Teddy sprawled there, _dead_ , made something visceral clench in his chest. Made something fragile and terrible shift in his head. As if for one horrible moment, it was all too _real_ ; as if maybe Kang had already come, and they’d lost, and Teddy was _gone_ , and it was all his fucking fault because what use were powers if he couldn’t even figure out how to use them half the time and and and…

And he hadn’t realized until just this moment, until he was crumbling into blind panic, just how _afraid_ he was.

“Whoa, Billy,” Jamie said at whatever he saw on Billy’s face. He jerked around the corner of the blind, clambering up to join them with real worry in his eyes. The plastic gun dangled loose and forgotten at his side. “What the _eff_?”

Teddy straightened, turning back to him at once, laughter draining from his face, and fuck, Billy hadn’t meant to do that. He hadn’t meant to drag his secret nightmares out and let them spill all over what should have been a fun night—a rare evening away from practice and failure and responsibility, where he could be with his boyfriend and the best friend he’d all but _broken_.

“I don’t,” Billy began, thoughts spinning like mad and chest far too tight. He dropped his gun, feeling the sparks dancing across his fingertips and shivering up his spine. It was so stupid, he was so stupid; this was just a game.

(But Kang was really coming, and that, _that_ was no game. And if he didn’t learn how to control his stupid powers before then…)

Teddy jerked close at Billy’s low noise, big hands cupping Billy’s jaw. “Hey, hey,” he said even as Jamie reached to grip Billy’s shoulders, close but not crowding. “Hey, _Billy_ , it’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“ _We’ve_ got you,” Jamie echoed, squeezing. “We’ve got you, Billy. It’s cool. Whatever it is, it’s cool.”

He couldn’t breathe. He knew, he knew, he knew how dumb it was, he knew it made no fucking sense, _he knew_ everything was all right, but he couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t think, and fuckshitGod it hurt. It hurt to sit there and _shake_ , sandwiched between his two favorite people in the world, useless book dropped and forgotten at his knee, powers some insidious force he’d _never_ learn how to control—and _what use_ was having them if he couldn’t save the people he loved, if all he did was fuck up their lives over and over and over again, and—

“I want,” Billy gasped, lips numb. Body numb. _Brain_ numb. “I _want—_ ”

Teddy’s blue eyes went wide, and he tightened his grip on Billy’s jawline, thumb brushing over his cheeks. “No,” he said. “No, no, no, Billy, hey—control it. You can control it.”

“ _I want_ ,” Billy said, and the desire came from his gut, from his very core. He might not understand half of what he could do, he might never fully grasp the enormity of what he faced, but he had Teddy in front of him and Jamie behind him, and all at once he needed to know he wasn’t going to be the reason their lives were so broken. He needed to know he hadn’t fucked it all up after all. “ ** _I want to fix this._** ”

The words burst out of him in a flare of blue light, power exploding from him in a brilliant corona. Teddy sucked in a breath, but he didn’t pull away, not even when the shockwave washed over him like an electric pulse—and _fuck_ if that wasn’t the most concrete declaration of love Billy had ever seen.

Behind him, Jamie gave a startled cry, high and sharp and almost immediately lost beneath the laughing shrieks of kids thundering by. He must have been caught in the blast, too. He must have been…what, whammied again? Broken even _more_? God, God, God, Billy _sucked_. He sucked so bad.

“I’m sorry,” he said, eyes burning with frustrated tears. It still hurt to breathe, but some of the panic was fading in the aftermath of his spell, as if the flash of power had hollowed him out, leaving him sore but gentled. He tipped his head forward, choking on something close to a sob when Teddy brushed his thumbs across his wet cheeks, then leaned in to nuzzle his temple; his breath sent dark tangles of hair fluttering. “God, I suck.”

“Liar,” Teddy murmured, hand sliding around to cup the back of Billy’s neck. Jamie’s hands were still on his shoulders, but his grip had relaxed, gone loose. “I have it on good authority that you’re actually the best.”

That earned a watery laugh, and Billy pulled back just enough to meet Teddy’s beautifully empathetic eyes. “Now who fed you that bit of bull crap?” he asked, wiping at his cheeks. He didn’t want to turn around and face Jamie yet—didn’t want to see the blank Stepford look on his face. Jamie had been _compelled_ to be okay with every bit of craziness Billy flung at him the last time Billy lost control; this would be no different, and Billy still felt too raw to force himself to come face-to-face with the consequences.

Teddy tilted his head, pretending to think—playing it up to try to make Billy smile. “Weeeeelll,” he said, “Eli said you aren’t _terrible_ , at least.”

“Well, from Eli, that’s practically a ringing endorsement,” Billy said.

“Right?” Teddy said, dimple flashing. He reached up with his free hand to brush back a dark tangle of bangs. “So hey, I figure you must be pretty cool. You okay?”

He let out a breath. “Yeah,” he said—whispered, really. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” Teddy whispered back, catching the last of his drying tears with a swipe of his thumb. “No change here.”

“Thank _God_.”

“ _Um_ ,” Jamie suddenly interrupted, squeezing Billy’s shoulders before letting go. “For the record, I am seriously _not okay_.”

Billy stiffened, eyes going huge at the familiar sarcasm—no Stepford good cheer, no mind-whammied acceptance. He twisted around just in time to see Jamie sit back on his ass _hard_ , fingers tangled in his wild mass of curls. He looked alarmingly pale. “You know,” Jamie continued acidly, voice rising in volume and panic, “in case someone remembered to give a shit, and _oh my GOD, Billy!”_

Teddy jerked up onto his knees even as Billy scrambled to Jamie’s side, reaching for him. His heart might have broken if Jamie jerked away, but his best friend just sat there and stared at him, expression caught somewhere between shock and dismay and…delight. “Jamie,” Billy said, then stumbled over his words—because what exactly could he say?

“Fuck,” Teddy offered, feelingly.

…what could he say _other than that?_ “Fuck, Jamie, are you—”

“YOU JUST EXPLODED INTO BLUE LIGHT,” Jamie yelled into his face. Then, eyes going huge, “OH MY GOD, ARE YOU A MUTANT??”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Teddy said again—and actually laughed, ignoring both Billy and Jamie’s startled looks. “Well,” he said, spreading his hands in a broad _what can you do_ gesture. “I guess you fixed him.”

Billy curled his upper lip at Teddy—that was _not_ helping—before turning his full attention back to Jamie. Jamie, who had been his best friend from childhood. Jamie, who had been his rock. Jamie, who was…actually really, really being way too loud with this for his peace of mind. “Jamie,” he tried, gripping skinny shoulders.

“YOU _ARE_ A MUTANT, AREN’T YOU?” The delight was winning out over the shock and dismay, grin growing wider and wider and wider as Billy fought for something to say. “YOU ARE A GLOWING BLUE LIGHT MUTANT. LIKE DAZZLER, EXCEPT SOMEHOW EVEN LESS COOL. HOLY FUCKBALLS, DO YOU HAVE A TAIL TOO? CAN I SEE YOUR TAIL?”

“I, I, _what_?” Billy tried. He shot Teddy another quick look, but Teddy was just shaking his head and laughing. “Teddy, that’s not helping. I think I broke him again.” Nothing else would explain Jamie’s _shouted_ rambling, loud enough to be heard even over the pounding music and sound of lasers firing and shrieking laughter.

This evening had taken such a sudden shift toward the bizarre.

“Nah,” Teddy said. He leaned forward, bumping Billy aside gently with his shoulder so he could jostle Jamie. “He’s fine. He’s just _fucking_ with you; aren’t you, Jamie?”

Billy looked between Teddy and Jamie, blinking as Jamie jostled Teddy back and laughed. “What,” Billy began.

“C’mon,” Jamie said, rolling up onto his feet. He looked down at Billy and Teddy, that crooked smile curved across his mouth. But there was something hiding beneath the smile, something sharp and complicated and more than a little hurt. Seeing that pain flashing there, Billy couldn’t help but wonder how much Jamie remembered about being under his accidental thrall. Had he been aware he was acting odd all this time? Had he known something was wrong with him? Did he remember Billy and Teddy _talking_ about him as if, with all his Stepford smiles, he was little more than a doll?

“Jamie,” Billy began, heart in his throat. It was crazy how many twists and turns this night was taking; he wasn’t sure he could keep up.

“C’mon,” Jamie said again. He holstered his gun and offered Billy a hand up, smile warming just a little, though there was enough steel in his eyes that Billy knew he wasn’t even close to being forgiven for everything that had happened—not yet. “Let’s go grab some food and you two can explain everything that’s going on. I think you owe me.”

Billy flinched, but he grasped Jamie’s hand and let himself be tugged up. Teddy rose with him, a supportive shadow as he let Jamie take the lead. “Um. Yeah,” Billy admitted. He squeezed Jamie’s fingers tight, meeting his eyes earnestly, still almost too afraid to believe that somehow in an instant he’d undone all the damage inflicted on his best friend. The need to tell him _everything_ was already pouring out of him, messy and frightening and wonderful. This…this was _wonderful._ “I have powers and I’m trying to save the world and I kind of mind-whammied you for a little while but I didn’t mean to and I’m sorry and I’ll explain _everything_ and I am so, so, so, so, _so_ sorry, Jamie.”

Jamie jerked his chin, grip tightening right back. “You’re such a fucking dick,” he said, completely earnest. Then he yanked Billy close, their plastic vests clattering together as he wrapped his arms around him the fiercest of hugs.

Billy melted into the embrace, eyes hot with tears again. He wound his arms around Jamie’s middle and _squeezed_ with all his (growing) strength, needing to feel him, needing to tell himself over and over that it was going to be okay. It was going to work out. He’d helped Jamie, which meant he could use these stupid powers for _good_ when he wanted to, too. He and Teddy would figure it all out—with Jamie’s help, even if Nate wanted to keep making him focus on the Asgardian lightning stuff—and when Kang came, he would _wish_ him back into the time stream so fast his stupid purple hat would go tumbling off his stupid Nate-not-Nate head.

“I missed you,” Billy murmured against Jamie’s shoulder, utterly at peace for one perfect, shining minute.

“Yeah,” Jamie said, voice muffled. Tremulous, as if he might be fighting back overwhelming emotion too. “Well. I missed you too.”

Then he pulled back to glower at Billy from beneath lowered brows, one part teasing and one part seriously pissed off and so completely wonderful that Billy felt like laughing again with something that felt dangerously close to hysterical joy. “But you’re still a huge dick, you know.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Billy echoed, grinning back. Now it was Jamie to his front and Teddy at his back, and still he was surrounded by the two boys he loved most in the world. Even crazy time killers and the possible end of the world and a growing anxiety that no matter what he did, he’d never be good enough or strong enough to face it—to _save_ the people he loved—couldn’t hold a candle to that right now. “I guess I deserve that.”


	6. Wouldn't It Be Nice?

**BILLY**

**212-555-9078:** Hey loser, don’t act like I didn’t see you sneaking down toward the subway a few minutes ago.

**212-555-9078:** I tried to wave, but you looked crazy intense.

**212-555-9078:** Emphasis on crazy.

**212-555-9078:** You still on the subway? That’s cool, I’ll entertain myself.

**212-555-9078:** What do you call a nun who sleepwalks?

**212-555-9078:** Oh, hey, wait—are you and Teddy meeting up to do some avengey things?

**212-555-9078:** Holy shit, you are, aren’t you?

**212-555-9078:** Is mysterious leader you still won’t tell me the name of going to let you off your leashes??

**212-555-9078:** Be safe! Be smart! Or let someone be smart for you!

**212-555-9078:** Let me know if I need to call 911 or Uber or something. Or bring orange slices. I slice a mean orange.

**212-555-9078:** You’re still alive, right? Text me if you’re still alive.

**212-555-8743:** Jamie, STOP. You’re going to kill my phone.

**212-555-8743:** I was only on the subway for like fifteen minutes, tops.

**212-555-9078:** I’m sorry, I’m too busy slicing orange wedges to talk to you now.

**212-555-8743:** You’re the worst.

**212-555-9078:** If by worst you mean the absolute best most understanding and supportive best friend ever who isn’t even holding a grudge about the face that you totally lied to him fo

**212-555-9078:** Sorry, ran out of characters

**212-555-9078:** for like ever.

**212-555-8743:** You know, I did offer to grovel.

**212-555-9078:** Oh, and you made me your creepy mind-slave.

**212-555-8743:** Repeatedly. I offered to grovel repeatedly.

**212-555-9078:** This is more fun. So are you?

**212-555-8743:** What? Regretting my whole life?

**212-555-9078:** No, dumbass. Avenging.

**212-555-8743:** Oh. No. We got the day off.

**212-555-9078:** Scary leader gave you the day off? That doesn’t sound like the guy you described. Also, does evil take a day off? I don’t think so.

**212-555-8743:** At this point, I don’t even care—I’m just going to enjoy not having bruises on my ass.

**212-555-9078:** WOW, Teddy, way to go.

**212-555-8743:** What? I—JAMIE, WHAT???

**212-555-9078:** How do I make devil-eggplant emojiis again? Oh well, I’ll kick it old school: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

**212-555-8743:** I hate you. So much.

**212-555-9078:** You loooove me so much. So what are you guys up to then? Can I crash?

**212-555-8743:** Um. I mean, if you want, but this was sort of a, you know.

**212-555-9078:** Kinky gay sex thing?

**212-555-8743:** Jamie.

**212-555-9078:** Relax, relax—I’m sure your date will be awkward and sexless.

**212-555-8743:** Jamie.

**212-555-9078:** Seriously, have fun. I’ll catch you later tonight, okay? And remember, if it looks like he’s— Sorry, Sam spotting. Gotta go.

**212-555-8743:** Wait, are you seriously going to leave it there? If it looks like he’s WHAT?

**212-555-8743:** Jamie?

**212-555-8743:** Jamie?

**212-555-8743:** Say hi to Sam for me. I’m officially turning off my phone.

“Turning off my phone for my totally not awkward and sexless date,” Billy added, sotto, as he powered it down.

One of the pigeons hopping hopefully around the nearby trash bins lifted its head and cooed in response. “Yeah, that’s right,” Billy said. He shoved his phone into his jeans, then nervously smoothed down his shirt. He’d gone with green today, mostly because it was a) the nicest not-dressy piece of clothing he owned, b) as far from his Wiccan costume as he could get (because this was _officially_ their official day off and he was going to enjoy it, damn it) and c) it reminded him of Teddy. Which he was never going to admit out loud in a thousand years. “It’s _not_ a sexless date. In fact, it’s pretty much definitively a sex date. In fact, you can even call it an all-caps SEX date. So take that, expectations; we’ve zoomed past you on our way to the Twilight Zone.”

“On the one hand,” Teddy mused, sliding into the bench next to him, “I really want to ask.”

Billy started, flushing as red as his missing cape as he turned— _awkward_ and flatfooted and…and wow, also, a little tongue-tied, because Teddy looked _good_. (Not that he didn’t always look good; he just looked particularly good on this particular day, date, wow, yes, date. Teddy was wearing _date_ clothes. And…cologne? _Oh God, don’t stick your face in his neck. Sit up straight and don’t list against him like a swooning maiden, stop it, stop it, stop—)_ “Um!” Billy said, leaning back against the bench as if fighting gravity. He’d almost managed to get used to Teddy’s usual sweet, almost aquatic scent. Like an ocean with more sugar than salt. But whatever cologne he’d mixed with the usual was pure fucking _magic_ , adding a spicy underlayer that…

That…

That, oops, “You’re waiting for me to say something,” Billy hazarded.

Teddy’s grin was slow and sheepish and unbearably _sweet_. “Well, I guess the silent treatment works if you give me a few minutes to buff up on my charades.”

“Hi, hold still, you’re being too great,” Billy said on a sigh, giving in to inevitability and _thwumping_ softly against Teddy’s shoulder. He was wearing an orange-and-teal striped shirt, its collar soft against Billy’s cheek. That scent filled his lungs as he drew in a breath, and it was just unfair the way Teddy battered at all of his defenses so completely just by showing up and being himself.

Like now, the way he lifted a hand to card his fingers briefly through the tangle of Billy’s hair—the pad of his thumb oh-so-lightly brushing the shell of his ear and sending sparks down his spine. “Hey,” Teddy murmured, dipping his head close. “Missed you.”

Warmth bloomed low in his gut. “You saw me yesterday,” Billy pointed out, and it was only by sheer incredible willpower that he straightened without wrapping around Teddy like an enthusiastic eel. “And the day before that. And the day before that.”

Teddy just shrugged a broad shoulder. “Yeah, well, I didn’t see you this morning. And as I was riding the R into the city, I got this thing caught in my head, you know? And I kept thinking…” He spread his hands, all too serious. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could wake up in the morning when the day is new?”

Teddy turned, ignoring Billy’s confused noise, and took one of his hands between his own. The drag of Teddy’s thumb, this time up the meat of his palm, _almost_ distracted him from the rest of the half-familiar words. “And after having spent the day together, hold each other close the whole night through?”

Dork. _Dork._

“Okay, Brian Wilson,” Billy laughed, jerking his hand back to smack at Teddy’s shoulder. “Nice cribbing off the Beach Boys, there.”

“Oh _yeah_.” Teddy snapped his fingers, smile growing slow and wide and fucking _gorgeous_. “That’s totally where it came from; well then, I guess I wasn’t thinking about you after all.”

“Liar,” Billy said, and took Teddy’s hand in his again—still daring much, still flustered, even after almost two whole weeks of dating.  
  
(Two whole _weeks_.)

Teddy squeezed his fingers back. “Liar,” he agreed, voice dropping a register, eyes locked with Billy’s. And holy shit, Billy was pretty sure the human heart couldn’t just explode from joy, but he was pushing hard at the limit and, and—

And he let go, standing. “So, SEX!” Billy said, far too loudly. Even the pigeon huffed and flew off in disgust. “I mean,” he quickly amended, quieter, “the Museum of SEX. You got the tickets?”

“I got the tickets.” He patted his pocket even as he stood, one corner of his mouth tucked up into a crooked grin. “Though maybe you should try shouting that out a little louder. I don’t think everyone heard you.”

“Oh no, what’s this thing I found in my pocket?” Billy lifted a single middle finger, grinning back when Teddy just laughed and gave him a playful shove. “I think it’s for you.”

“Aw,” Teddy said with fluttering lashes, “you shouldn’t have.” He held out his hand in silent question.

And Billy, without a moment’s hesitation, took it. Question answered, circuit closed; a promise made.

Billy let himself be buffeted along on a ridiculous mix of nerves and excitement as they set off toward Broadway…and their _date_. Holy shit, he was going on an actual _date_. He ducked his head, biting his lower lip to keep the probably-just-shy-of-manic grin off his face. The city was teeming around them, a river of people going about their lives; none of them so much as gave them a second glance. None of them realized how huge today was, how, how…how _long_ he’d been waiting.

For this. For Teddy.

For the chance to have this thing that other boys his age took for granted.

Teddy lightly bumped their shoulders together and Billy realized with a start that the other boy had been talking. He looked up with a sheepish twist to his mouth, but Teddy just smiled back. “Boring you already?”

“Oh yeah,” Billy said. “That Teddy Altman: such a snoozefest. Sorry. I was just…processing. This is a lot.”

_This_ meaning their linked fingers and their pact to revisit all the highlights from their time _before_ and the date and, and kissing. There was going to be kissing at the end of this date; he was sure of it. “A whole lot,” Billy added, flushing. His stomach actually clenched at the thought, pleasure blooming from low in his belly. He wanted to be kissing Teddy more than anything else. He wanted to thread his fingers through golden hair and pull him down for the first, second, third, endless brush of lips and tongues—the press of Teddy’s weight bearing him back against some brick wall somewhere, his hands on—

“…a good lot or a bad lot?” Teddy asked slowly, interrupting the fiery pinwheel of his thoughts.

“Um, _awesome_ ,” Billy promised. He tugged Teddy to a stop before he could cross over toward Madison Square Park, hyperaware of all those people swarming around them and. Not. Caring. He hardly noticed them as more than a colorful background blur as he used Teddy’s momentum to swing him around until they were face to face.

Teddy frowned. “Is something—” he began, always the worrier, but Billy caught his jaw in the curve of one hand and rocked up onto the balls of his feet to _kiss_ him. Stealing his words; stealing his breath; stealing away this moment and locking it somewhere safe deep inside him as Teddy’s startled noise became a low hum of approval. He melted into the kiss, big hand falling to Billy’s waist—holding him close, thumb curling into a belt loop as if he never planned on letting him go.

_Yes, yes, yes, please, yes_.

The kiss wasn’t deep, but it was slow and _hot_ , the flick of Teddy’s tongue the barest pressure against Billy’s lower lip. Billy whined deep in his chest, mouth falling open for _more_ —but Teddy was already pulling back with a shuddery sigh, his cheeks, _ears_ , beautifully pink, his lashes dipping low. “Um,” Teddy said, and his voice was just a little rough. “That’s probably a good place to stop before we get hauled in for necking out on the street.”

Billy bit his lower lip, grinning. “God, you’re such an eighty-year-old man sometimes. _Necking_?”

“Well!” he laughed.

Billy gave into impossible temptation, catching the collar of Teddy’s shirt and rocking up to press one last, lingering kiss to his obnoxiously perfect mouth. Then he sighed and rolled back down onto his heels before he could give in to the temptation to do more. “Okay,” he said. “I’m done for now, I swear. I just figured it’d be easier if we got the good night kiss out of the way before I spent the entire date obsessing over it.”

“And was that likely?”

He snorted and reached up to brush back a long fall of blond bangs. “Um, you’ve seen you, right? Besides,” Billy added, finally moving toward the street, his hand still clasped in Teddy’s. “We’re going to a, um, sexy museum. If I was in a sexy museum _and_ thinking of kissing you, I’d probably explode into, I don’t know, roasted meat streamers.”

“…evocative,” Teddy decided as they passed the park. Shake Shack was doing booming business, its line almost snaking all the way out to the sidewalk. “But how do you know the exhibit will, uh, do it for you?”

Billy tipped his head up to look at him. “Isn’t it the same one we saw before?”

“Nope,” he said. “They change it every few months or so. There’s something completely new in there. It looked pretty cool.”

“No spoilers,” Billy quickly interrupted. “No spoilers; I want to be surprised. Oh, hey, random question.”

“Random answer.”

Billy knocked their shoulders together. “It’s a joke Jamie asked while I was on the subway, but he didn’t give the _answer_ , and it’s going to drive me nuts if I don’t figure it out. What do you call a sleepwalking nun? It’s one of those black-and-white-and-red-all-over jokes, right?”

Teddy frowned, then suddenly snorted. “No,” he said with a half-groan. “It’s much worse than that.”

“Well?” he demanded as they crossed the street. The Museum of SEX was in the distance, its windows blacked out, its façade utterly unassuming. “Come on, don’t make me ask Jamie. He’ll hold it over my head like you wouldn’t believe; he _loves_ knowing one of his stupid jokes got to me.”

“It’s a pun,” Teddy said. He let go of Billy’s hand, form subtly shimmering— _growing_ an inch or two as he aged himself up a few years. For a moment, Billy was knocked back by déjà vu. It was the early days of their friendship all over again. He almost expected to feel that old, familiar, long-ago ache deep in his chest, where all his hopeless _longing_ had built and built and built until he hadn’t any choice but to explode. Until—

_Until Coney Island_.

Until it had all shattered around him.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, turning his face so the ticket-taker wouldn’t catch them out. The normally bright entranceway-slash-shop was dimmed, whirling lights playing across the ceiling in disorienting dips and swirls. Part of him wanted to look around in open curiosity. The other part wanted to reach back in time to take his own hand—to say, voice low, _it’s going to work out. It’s going to be okay. You have no idea just how good the future can be_.

“Did I kill you with my punny sense of humor?” Teddy asked, handing Billy his ticket stub. Billy took it reflexively, blinking back into the present; into his _date_ , as Teddy subtly _shifted_ back and they moved toward the first floor exhibits. “Or, should I say: did I _slay_?”

“I’m sorry, I was ignoring you,” Billy lied blithely, tumbling back through his subconscious for what Teddy had said. Then he groaned. “Oh _man_ ,” he said with a laugh. “A sleepwalking nun is a…”

“Roamin’ Catholic,” Teddy agreed with a sage nod when Billy absolutely refused to finish. “Yup. Pretty good, huh?”

He turned his face, dropping his forehead against Teddy’s sturdy shoulder with another laughing moan. “ _No_ ,” Billy said, trusting Teddy to lead them where they needed to go. “No, that is _not_ pretty good. In fact it’s… It’s…” He stumbled to a stop, both figuratively and literally, as Teddy suddenly went perfectly still. He was distantly aware of a strange _whoosh whoosh_ , like the distant sound of waves, like—

_Water. A pool. Teddy’s skin slick and hot against his own, fingers tangled in his hair, tongue thrusting past his lips. Cool air against his pebbled nipples and an ache between his thighs._

Billy jerked his head up, cheeks _flaming_. He wasn’t quite sure what he expected to see—there was no way the Museum of SEX had actually managed to dip into his subconscious to find his own most shamefully, wonderfully erotic thoughts—except _holy fuck_ , they lived in a world with people like Professor X and _what if it had_ , shit shit shit—but he never, he, he couldn’t—

He—

Billy slowly cocked his head, irrational terror (and low hum of arousal) fading into horrified confusion. “I,” he began, staring at the giant, eighteen-foot-tall silicone statue just a few feet away from the entrance, welcoming museum-goers with a snaggle-toothed smile and a giant, pink, spread-wide open…something. “What am I looking at, Teddy?”

“I think,” Teddy said slowly, voice strangled, “that’s a Kymellian vagina. Or, uh, pouch. Or. I don’t know, I’m too scared to read the plaque.”

Billy’s eyes darted to the discrete plastic-plated plaque describing the exhibit, then back up to the miles and miles of…faintly furred peachy-pink skin. There were soft petals extending from the deep chasm that spanned from between the creature’s thighs all the way up to its pectorals. Scales gleamed along its belly all the way down to what looked like phosphorescent pollops. “ _Um_ ,” he said, and looked up. Above the huge statue (smiling with its strange aquiline mouth, its, uh, _whatever_ spread open for further examination) was a banner reading, simply:

_The Sex Lives of Aliens_

“ _Um!_ ” Billy said again, and all at once that familiar rhythmic aquatic noise took on a deeply disturbing bent. “Okay, this is probably going to get weird.”

“Going to _get_ weird?” Teddy echoed faintly, but there was horrified laughter in his eyes when he cut a glance toward Billy. The amusement there sparked something inside Billy’s chest and he quickly clapped a hand over his mouth before he could stutter into the very worst case of church giggles ever, standing in the shadow of an eighteen-foot-tall alien posed in full provocation…

…pollops waving with each gust of the air conditioning.

“I,” he managed, muffled behind his hand. Other patrons were moving past them—around the welcoming statue—and deeper into the exhibit. The room had been completely redone since the last time he’d been here, huge tanks taking up one side of the space, what looked like caverns darkening the shadows on the other. Overhead, a galaxy spun in bright pinpricks of light, and it was all so _surreal_ that it felt like being toppled head-first into a funhouse; Teddy’s hand, gripped in his, was the only thing keeping him from falling away. “I… Um. Well, this will certainly be educational,” Billy finally settled on, slowly dropping his other hand.

Teddy was bright red. “Educational and emotionally scarring,” he decided.

Billy gave his hand a tug and they slowly bypassed the serenely welcoming statue, venturing deeper into the exhibit space. “It can’t be _that_ bad,” he said, even as his gaze bounced away from what looked like a series of medieval torture devices lined up in a grisly row ( _Mechanized Masturbation Across the Shi’iar Empire_ , a helpful banner read.) “Right?”

“If I see the word _Brood_ anywhere, I’m leaving you to your fate.”

Billy snorted, drifting slowly toward the tanks. They were the source of the soft _whoosh whoosh_ that kept filling his brain with sense-memory of chlorine and gasping kisses; he wondered idly whether Teddy was thinking the same thing. Whether Teddy thought about that night as often as he did; whether he lay in bed and… And um…

“Um,” he breathed, letting go of Teddy’s hand to surreptitiously wipe his palms against his jeans. He looked up into the tank, expecting who even knew what—but all he saw was darkness. “Um,” Billy said again, leaning closer. He peered into the depths, squinting back toward the far side of the aquarium. A couple of girls a few feet down were pressed against the glass, hands cupped over their eyes to block out the ambient light, and Billy mentally shrugged as he copied them. He was aware of Teddy trailing several feet behind to read the plaque—aquariums of any kind making him uneasy—but as Billy pressed close, hands blocking out the worst of the light, the whole museum seemed to fade away behind him.

It was like looking into a whole new world.

The tank was dark—intensely dark, reminding him of the depths of the ocean or maybe the furthest reaches of space—and deep, reaching back maybe six feet or more. It rose all the way to the ceiling and, pressed against it with his peripheral cut off, Billy couldn’t escape the feeling he was floating in the middle of that black water, cold and clear and shivering with each eddy. And, in the distance—

In the distance, _light._

Billy sucked in a quiet breath, watching faint trails of neon light drift together and apart in the dim. They were so small it was easy to miss them at a glance, but once he saw them—once he was aware—they were everywhere. Connecting in an endless gossamer spiderweb of color, reds blending into oranges into yellows into purples so brilliant they almost defied description. They spread like a network of nerves, or, or like membrane, or… No, like the hanging tentacles of a jellyfish beneath a black light, only a thousand times smaller and more graceful.

Billy blinked, awed. There were sparks of pink and orange and deepest blue, glimmering like fireflies—like trailing filaments of light, converging and dispersing with each subtle shift of water.

Beautiful. It was _beautiful_ , and unexpected, and somehow humbling. These tiny little breaths of color moving in a graceful dance, lost if he so much as let his gaze unfocus.

“Wow,” one of the girls to his left said, and Billy could only agree.

“So, are we like, watching aliens fuck right now?” the other girl asked—and that question (and the reality of it, because _holy crap_ she was probably right) startled him back from his moment of zen. He pulled away from the tank, shooting the duo a startled glance before turning to look at Teddy.

Teddy just shrugged a shoulder. “ _Fillimato Mating Dance_ ,” he said. “It’s actually pretty interesting. According to this, colors on the slower end of the spectrum indicate, um, you know, orgasm, and—”

Billy slipped past him, moving away from the tank with a hot flush. “And moving on then.”

He just laughed, jogging to catch up. “Don’t worry,” Teddy said, bumping their shoulders together. “They’re not real. It’s just a simulation. I mean, if anything, you just watched some alien porn.”

“This is my life,” Billy said. “This is actually my life.” He grinned back, flushed hot with lingering embarrassed amused. Because _yeah_ this was his life, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything. “All right, what’s going to scar us next?”

The answer, as it turned out, was both _nothing_ and _everything_. They made a circuit of the lower level, never staying too long at any one exhibit. There was a hands-on display of Kree sexual arousal patterns (which pretty much ruined Billy’s chances of ever looking Captain Marvel in the eye, should the opportunity come up—and no, no, no thinking about anything going _up_ , oh _God_.) There was a more in-depth look at Shi’iar biology, and an interesting—and colorful—display on Majesdanian prism-sharing.

Megans gave him a whole new view on suction cups, Pryconites pretty much ruined turtles forever, and R’malk’i… Well. Actually, that was okay; that was pretty much just like looking at a terrarium until Teddy oh-so-helpfully pointed out the fleshy purple-pink stamens. (Because Teddy was the _worst_.)

All that ended in a final exhibit on the Skrull and gender fluidity.

“Huh,” Billy said, watching as a hologram of a Skrull warrior shimmered between forms. It was dizzying to watch the shift and change, physical features smoothing before regaining definition, like… How had Teddy once described it? Like a watercolor, edges bleeding together to form something altogether new. “It kind of…”

Billy stopped and glanced around, making sure no one could overhear him. No matter what Eli liked to say, he _did_ have the common sense a squirrel gave a peanut. “It kind of looks like what you do.”

Teddy tore his gaze away from the rapidly shifting Skrull, brows puckered. “I’m not a Skrull, Billy,” he said.

Billy held up his hands. “I know!” he promised. “I know. But I mean…it _does_ kind of look like what you do.”

“I guess.” He shifted away a little, arms crossing over his broad chest, but there was no walling off the curiosity in Teddy’s eyes. It shone there, brighter than anything in the room, as his gaze flicked over plaques, exhibits, studies. Billy followed in his wake, attention bouncing between his shapeshifting boyfriend and the shapeshifters on display, mentally making comparisons, continually surprised at how many lined up. Teddy was a mutant of some kind, sure, but wow, he _did_ seem to share quite a bit with the Skrull, down to—

“Hey,” Billy suddenly said. “You’ve been a girl too, right?”

Teddy flushed and turned away from a screen showing— _holy shit_ , were they shapeshifting _while_ they had sex? Billy had no idea the Skrull could do that.

Wait. Could Teddy do that?

Could—

“…not here,” Teddy was saying over the sound of Billy’s brain breaking into a thousand pieces. “Okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed, numbly; he was pretty sure, in that moment, he would have agreed with anything. “Sure.”

Teddy looked away, blowing out a short breath, then back at Billy. He tipped his head toward the door that led up to the next floor. “You done here?” he asked.

In answer, Billy slipped his hand in his and squeezed his fingers; Teddy squeezed back gently, and together they headed up to the permanent exhibits. The moment they left the stairwell and passed into the long, dark room with its dozens of flickering screens, Teddy began to pull back—no doubt planning to break away the way he had last time so they could give each other space. There was something silly and fun about the exhibits downstairs, but there was something…more intense, more personal about this place.

Maybe it was the dark. The hush, like a temple or a library. Or maybe it was that when he saw those flickering images, he could imagine himself in the scenes—with Teddy. Touching Teddy. Kissing Teddy. Breathless and arching and _aching_ and more real than anything.

…which is why Billy reached out to snag Teddy’s arm before he could get more than a few steps away, reeling him back in with hot cheeks and eyes that couldn’t quite meet his. “Wait,” he said in a low hush. “There’s something I wanted to show you.”

Teddy wet his lips. “Billy,” he began, but he didn’t finish. The words hung there between them, too much and yet not nearly enough to encapsulate everything they were to each other. Everything they could be.

Billy bit his bottom lip and cut his gaze up and then away, hoping. Teddy’s subtle nod sent his stomach pinwheeling. “Um,” he said, before simply tugging Teddy toward the far copse. The long room was pitted with them, Billy remembered—little semi-private booths in the darkness, where screens showed clips from pornographic videos over the years. The one he remembered (as if had been seared into his mind, as fresh as a new bruise) was empty as if it had been waiting for them all this time, the black-and-white images fading to the title screen as Billy slid into the long bench seat…and Teddy slid in next to him.

Side by side, their legs pressed together in a warm seam. Last time, Teddy hadn’t sat nearly as close—but then, of course, last time the two of them hadn’t even kissed yet. He hadn’t known for sure whether Teddy even _wanted_ to kiss him, and the uncertainty had roiled unhappily in his gut, hope an almost painful thing.

This. This was better.

“I wanted,” Billy began, voice so low it broke mid-word. He licked his lips and glanced at the title screen before looking up at Teddy again. “Do you remember this?”

“Yeah,” Teddy admitted. Quiet. He half-turned to face Billy, knee bumping his every time either of them moved. “God yeah. I still think about it all the time.”

_Fuck_. Billy closed his eyes, nerves and something heavier unspooling in his gut. “You do?” he managed, voice still scratchy.

He could feel Teddy shifting against him, could hear each rise and fall of his breath, could practically feel his eyes sweeping down Billy’s face, his chest, all the way to where his hands were fisted in his lap before up up up to his face again. His _mouth_. “ _Yeah_ ,” Teddy said in a husky murmur that went straight through Billy in an electric jolt. “The way you were watching those boys kiss. The way you kept leaning forward, bottom lip between your teeth, eyes huge and dark. The sound of your breath coming faster. The thought that, fuck, I could just lean in at any moment and…”

Teddy’s words trailed off and Billy actually _whimpered_ in response. He opened his eyes, looking up into Teddy’s face—bathed in flickering light as the old-fashioned silent movie played.

_Splash!_ read the title card. A dark-haired boy rose from the water like Venus.

“Why didn’t you kiss me, then?” Billy asked, voice strangled. He was hard. God, he was so hard. When he shifted, denim tightened against his cock like the first tentative brush of fingers. “I could tell you wanted to.”

“I wanted to,” Teddy agreed, lashes lowering, though he didn’t drop Billy’s gaze. “For a moment, I thought maybe I would. I thought…I thought maybe I’d be brave enough to try.”

His breath audibly hitched and Billy reached up, cupping one hand around the back of Teddy’s neck. He tugged him closer—close enough that he could feel each hot puff of breath against his parted lips. The tension was building inside his stomach, twisting tighter and tighter and tighter until he thought he might go mad from it. “Why didn’t you?” Billy asked again as, on the screen, a blonde and a dark-haired boy writhed together beneath the shadow of a tree.

“I was scared,” Teddy admitted. He dropped a hand to Billy’s waist, thumb brushing once along the stuttering give of his stomach. “You’re…actually really intimidating.”

Billy started to pull back with a breathless laugh. “ _Me_?” he said, but the rest of his words dried up, fled, left him sitting there shaken and trembling when Teddy cupped the curve of his cheek, thumb brushing oh-so slowly across his lower lip. Their faces were lit by flickering light.

“You,” Teddy said; Billy could feel the word against his parted lips, so close he could almost swallow it whole. “You’re…you’re just so…”

He held his breath, waiting, straining, yearning. _What?_ he wanted to say, hanging on every word. _What did you think of me back then?_

But that—that wasn’t the point of this, was it? That wasn’t the point of the two of them here, now; of this whole thing they were trying to do. They were starting over, fresh, without any of that old heartbreak. They were making something new here, not giving sway to lonely ghosts that could only drown them one by one in past mistakes.

To make something new, _better_ , they needed to let go.

And to let go, Billy needed to stop letting that past version of himself rule his future. It didn’t matter what Teddy thought of him then; it mattered what Teddy thought of him _now_. But Teddy was already opening his mouth to speak, to spill those secrets, unaware of the tectonic shift in Billy’s worldview. Suddenly desperate to stop him—to _not know_ —Billy tipped forward in a blind rush…

…and took that kiss he’d waited so long for.

Teddy made a startled noise, quickly subsumed by a low hum as he pressed instinctively closer. His lips were soft, faintly chapped, _warm_ against Billy’s. His hand tightened on Billy’s hip and he could feel the stuttering breath cross his lips—could swallow it with a small sound of his own—as they melted together by degrees.

It was a sweet thing, chaste but not without the promise for more. _Electric_ , tension humming between them as Billy slid his hands up into Teddy’s hair and tipped his head for a better angle, encouraging Teddy to do the same. Their lips moved in a soft glide—stuttering—shivering—before Billy’s mouth caught against Teddy’s lower lip and he just… _bit_.

Softly. Softly, softly, gently, teeth closing over the bit of flesh without thought, without _meaning_ , without— And oh, oh God, Teddy jolted at the contact; he _surged_ up into the kiss with a strangled moan. Hot, fucking scalding hot, like that one little bite had been enough to wind him up, and oh, _oh._ All at once, the chaste brush of mouths morphed into something filthy and more than a little desperate. Teddy’s lips parted, Billy sucked in a breath, and their tongues brushed together out in the open (exposed) dark, twining. Slick. Transgressive.

Billy whined deep in his throat and pressed even _closer_ , grip tightening in Teddy’s hair. The black-and-white movie was still playing in his periphery, on-screen boys mimicking their desperate kiss, spiraling down into something far more serious as Teddy cupped the sharp line of Billy’s jaw and tilted his head so he could lick deep into his mouth. Deeper. Hungrily feeding off every broken noise inside him as Billy’s hips shifted up in an aborted thrust.

He was _hard_. He was— Fuck, he was so hard, and he couldn’t think. He swallowed around Teddy’s tongue, sucking, wanting to swallow him whole as the world fell away around him. They could have been anywhere, except…

Except no, no, he was still _aware_ of people walking nearby, of the low murmur of voices. They were still in the museum, tucked away in a dark alcove but still visible to anyone who wandered past, and _that_ sent another jolt of heat through him even as he broke the kiss to suck in a ragged breath.

“Teddy,” Billy whispered, falling back against the far alcove wall, not at all surprised when Teddy crowded close again—perfect mouth peppering his jaw with kisses before moving down the sensitive arch of his neck. Lips, tongue, _teeth_ ; Billy bit the inside of his mouth to keep from crying out. He dug his fingers into Teddy’s shoulder, the other hand still tangled in his blond hair. Sprawled back, feeling exposed and electric, aching. The front of his boxers growing wet with precome. “Oh my God,” he said, staring up at the ceiling, lungs too tight to draw a full breath. “This is—”

_A bad idea_ , he almost said, except it wasn’t. It was the best idea ever; holy cow, why didn’t they just say _screw Kang_ and make out all the time?

“I want,” Teddy began, teeth raking over the sharp line of Billy’s collarbone. He drew in a shuddering breath, tongue swirling before he lifted his head to suck at his earlobe. “Billy, may I—”

“ _Yes_ ,” Billy interrupted. He didn’t need to hear more. Whatever Teddy wanted to say, do, kiss, _whatever_ —he had blanket permission. He had everything Billy could give. “Whatever you want, yes, okay? Yes, yes, I— _Fuck!”_

He nearly jolted out of the bench seat at the first brush of Teddy’s fingers (clever fingers; artist’s fingers) across the zip of his jeans. Teddy’s nails actually _rasped_ against the fabric as they slid up the bulge of Billy’s painfully trapped cock and, and, oh oh _oh_. “Teddy,” he whined, head falling back again, thighs falling open—all of him just _melting_ at the tentative brush. His breath came in harsh pants, and he would have been mortified at how quickly he responded (like wildfire catching, entire body going up in instant conflagration) if not for the gutted-low _pleased_ noise Teddy made in the back of his throat.

Like.

Like it was turning him on to touch Billy just as much as it was turning Billy on to be touched. Cupped. Heel of Teddy’s hand pressing down lightly as he caught Billy’s earlobe between his teeth, tongue swirling across the sensitized flesh.

Just a few feet away, someone passed by their alcove in the darkness, and Billy’s hips jolted up as if he’d been shocked. All it would take was someone glancing over and they’d be _caught_ —Teddy’s mouth hot against his skin, Teddy’s body pressed dizzyingly close, Teddy’s _hand_ , his _hand_ , dragging maddeningly slow across the aching length of him as Teddy panted and shifted even closer and—

Billy squeezed his eyes shut, shuddering, overwhelmed by want and fear and the thrill of it all. _Holy fuck_ , this couldn’t be happening. Not to him. Not with someone like Teddy. Not—

“Billy,” Teddy murmured against his ear, voice utterly wrecked, as if _he_ were the one fighting not to rut up into a warm grip. All at once, it was too much, too good, pleasure coiling tight tight tight low in Billy’s gut as he let out a heaving breath and thought, with perfect clarity:

_Oh my God, I’m going to come._

“Wait!” he hissed, grabbing desperately for Teddy’s wrist. Teddy immediately went still, then retreated. His cheeks were flushed a gorgeous pink and his eyes were more black than blue, iris swallowed up, lips parted and _slick_ , muscular frame practically vibrating with, with…

Billy closed his eyes and slumped back against the alcove wall, panting. He was so close he was almost afraid to move—afraid the shift of his (way-too-tight) jeans would be enough to finish him off. Holy fuck. Just _holy fuck._ “I,” he began, then stopped and wet his bottom lip.

Teddy made a noise at that—a noise that had Billy curling up into a ball and nearly rolling off the bench seat with a whine. “ _Stop_ ,” Billy said, _begged_ , tight as a struck chord. “Oh my God, Teddy, stop or I’m going to—”

He couldn’t finish that thought. He just couldn’t, but Teddy seemed to understand anyway if the low, filthy cursing was anything to go by.

Billy drew in an unsteady breath, then another, trying to scrabble back some shade of control. Teddy had pulled back a little farther, putting some much-needed distance between them. It wasn’t quite enough to keep Billy from wanting to throw himself at him and public place (the _Museum of SEX_ , and wow, he was pretty sure the irony of that was not okay) and audience be damned.

But.

_But_.

But he managed to breathe through the worst of the pulsing urgency and cool himself off just enough to finally open his eyes and actually look at Teddy. It felt like a conflagration all over again when their eyes met, but they kept their hands off each other, so Billy counted it as a win. “ _Um_ ,” he said, voice rough. “So I think I’m museumed out.”

“Yeah,” Teddy said, dragging his fingers through his hair. The light from the movie (the _really sexy_ movie that Billy refused to even glance at) caught on a row of silver earrings. “I think we’re done here.”

“Maybe we could go to my place?” Billy offered in a far too casual voice. “My parents are at Andy-and-David’s game, so, you know, we’d be um alone and all…” Did he sound too pathetically eager? Fuck it, he didn’t care; he _was_ pathetically eager.

Thankfully, Teddy seemed to be in the same boat. “Right!” Teddy said, immediately standing. He oh-so casually adjusted his jeans, and it wasn’t until that moment that Billy realized (the thought rippling through him like a tossed stone, like an explosion) that, oh, _oh_ , oh God, Teddy was hard. Teddy was maybe just as hard as he was, and they were going _home_ , where they’d be alone with a door and a bed and—

And—

And his thoughts ended in a haze of white noise.


	7. Like a Virgin

**BILLY**

_Note to self_ , Billy thought, perched on the edge of the bench seat and doing his level best not to steal a glance at Teddy. _Next time, spring for the taxi._

They’d somehow made it out of the museum—though for Billy most of that minor miracle had been lost in a haze of sensation, as if he were bobbing along on a particularly erotic sea—and past the park. Neither had said anything. In fact, they hadn’t spoken a word all the way down the long blocks, into the subway station, and onto the platform. Billy hadn’t even bothered to check to make sure they were getting on the right _train_ ; his brain was too busy throwing pinwheels of excitement because, oh God, he was taking Teddy back to his place. He was taking Teddy back to his _empty_ place, where they… Where they could…

Where they could _blank_ (his mind short-circuiting with panic and adrenaline every time it tried to fill in the details), and wow, wow, _wow_ it was a bad idea to keep thinking about any of that when he was stuck on public transportation. He kept trying to clear his thoughts, certain the random commuters could read his expression as easily as any pulp novel…but then his gaze would cut back to Teddy and those low tendrils of heat would unspool in his belly again and he wouldn’t be able to help but imagine hands on his skin; the slick glide of a tongue; the heavy press of a body; Teddy’s breath hot against the curve of his neck as he…

He…

And and and crap, no, _no_ , he needed to think of something else _now_ , before his body reignited (like kindling on a blazing hot summer day) and set fire to the whole freaking car.

“ _Only you can prevent teenage-hormone-induced subway fires_ ,” Billy muttered beneath his breath, staring holes into the dirty linoleum floor. He was still semi-hard, and a nice old lady who looked like his grandmother was sitting just a few feet to his right. This was _not okay_.

Teddy leaned in, one arm braced against the metal bar. “What was that?” he asked, clearly not understanding the severity of Billy’s problem. He was going back to his empty brownstone with his boyfriend to have _sex_ (or some approximation thereof); he had absolutely zero chill left.

“Next time,” Billy said grimly, meaningfully, circling back, “we take a _cab_.”

“Oh? Oh. _Oh_ ,” Teddy said, getting it. A gorgeous flush painted his cheeks and he wet his lips, very nearly short-circuiting Billy’s brain. “I…yes, okay, I can agree to that.”

Billy dropped his head into his hands with a muffled moan.

Thankfully the subway gods were with him today. They made decent time and found themselves uptown with only a few dirty looks from fellow passengers. Teddy’s hand brushed down his spine as they jogged up the steps to the street, and Billy bit his lower lip, quickening his pace. The sky was wide open and gorgeous above them, and an intermittent breeze whispered through the trees lining his block.

Thank God Jamie was nowhere in sight.

“C’mon,” Billy said, catching Teddy’s hand in his. Now, after everything else that had happened between them, someone catching them _holding hands_ didn’t seem quite as monumental as it had before. If anything, Billy felt a little ridiculous that he’d been so anxious about it. There was an intimacy to their threaded together fingers (Teddy’s warm and rough with callouses, scraping against Billy’s palm in a way that sent shivers up his spine), but it paled in comparison to the memory of Teddy’s breath hot against his skin, Teddy’s mouth, Teddy’s _tongue_.

A friendly neighbor walking her dog smiled as she passed, but Billy just ducked his head against the red he could feel creeping up his cheeks and practically _ran_ , dragging Teddy a couple paces behind him. Teddy laughed—quick and startled—and Billy cast him a look over his shoulder.

A blond brow arched. “Anxious to be somewhere?” Teddy teased, squeezing his fingers.

Billy squeezed back. “Yeah,” he said. “ _Your face_.”

It was one of those stupid kneejerk comebacks he’d learned from years of scrapping with his brothers—a bit of nonsense bandied back and forth without much thought—but Teddy’s cheeks pinked as if Billy had meant something deeper. Billy frowned, not getting it, not getting it, not… _getting it_ , suddenly, choking on a laughing-groan as they finally (finally!) reached his house. “Not like that!” he protested, digging out his keys with stupidly trembling fingers. “I swear I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Well,” Teddy said, crowding in close behind him as Billy wrenched locks open one after the other; his breath was hot against the back of Billy’s neck. “I mean, if you wanted.”

Billy made a strangled noise and jerked the final lock clear, shoving open the door and practically falling inside. He stumbled a few steps, turning to slam the door behind  Teddy—crowding up in _his_ space this time, skinny chest all but brushing Teddy’s front, dark eyes locked with blue. Billy shuddered when Teddy’s hands fell instinctively to his waist. He rocked up onto the balls of his feet to bring their mouths closer.

“You,” Billy breathed, lifting his chin until their mouths very nearly brushed…dipping away before Teddy could catch a kiss. _Determined_ to make him pay. “Really,” he said, lips a whisper away from Teddy’s chin. “Can’t,” he said, by his temple, stirring blond hair and making Teddy tighten his grip on his hips and shudder. “Say,” he said, back to Teddy’s mouth, almost almost almost allowing him to steal a kiss before turning his face away again. The noise Teddy made—part protest, part growl—curled hot in his belly. “Things like,” he said, sliding his arms around Teddy’s neck and digging his fingers into his hair, tugging sharply. “That.”

Teddy’s grip went tight, thumbs hooking into worn denim belt loops, and _lifted_ him off his feet—effortlessly, as if Billy weighed next to nothing. As if Teddy could just toss him around at will, throw him down against the couch, bear down on his writhing hips, steal the breath in a deepening kiss and…

Billy whined, muscles tensing, and wrapped his dangling legs around Teddy’s thighs, holding on for all he was worth. Teddy was just so…so… _warm_ and _big_ against him. Broad where Billy was slim, built like every boy he’d ever secretly watched from beneath his lashes, as if Billy had wished him into existence. But he hadn’t, he didn’t have to, because Teddy was _real_ and Teddy was _here_ and Teddy was… Was…

Was not kissing him. Was just standing there, brows knit in mild confusion. Which just seemed completely unfair.

“Excuse me, sir,” Billy said, giving Teddy’s hair a sharp tug. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing something now? Or were you just doing the sexy-grr-argh caveman thing to prove a, uh, academic point?”

“Actually,” Teddy admitted with a wry, charmingly crooked smile, “I was trying to figure out where I was supposed to put you. They don’t exactly cover a lot of this stuff in sex ed. Also, I’m pretty sure your stranglehold on my legs would have sent both of us sprawling to the floor if I tried to take a step, and while that’s a really nice rug…”

Billy laughed, letting his grip loosen. His feet dangled for a moment before Teddy let him drop to the floor again. “They barely cover anything in sex ed, but don’t worry—my mother took it upon herself to make sure we were all horrifyingly well-informed. I mean,” he added, slowly backing toward the main stairway, “so long as your penis is shaped like a banana, I’ve got us covered.”

“Oh no,” Teddy said in faux-worry, following his lead in every way. “I’m afraid I have some very bad news for you, Billy.”

“What?” His foot hit the first step and he fumbled back for the bannister, unwilling to turn around—not when he could be watching the way a smile played across Teddy’s lips, or the teasing light that brightened his eyes. Or, you know, the way his t-shirt hugged muscles and his waistband flashed a hint of skin where it dipped just a touch too low. “No banana?”

“No banana.”

They made their way up the steps slowly, never once breaking eye contact. “That’s okay. She also had us practice on cucumbers and carrots—” Teddy gave a startled laugh, “—so as long as you’re not shaped like a starfruit or something, I think I can manage. Except…”

He stopped, wincing, teasing banter suddenly stalled out. Because it had been going on a year since his mother had approached him with a grim look, a piece of fruit, and desperately unwanted maternal advice, and he had no clue where she might have stored the box of condoms. “Um. So I’m not sure what you have in mind for, uh, today,” Billy began, heating. “But I don’t have…”

“It’s okay,” Teddy said before he could think of a way to spit out the words. “The condom fairy visited recently. _Don’t ask_ ,” he added with a strangled laugh.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start. And, um,” Billy added. “Speaking of all that sexy stuff…” He fumbled behind him for his doorknob, feeling his pulse quicken—feeling his skin begin to tighten—feeling his cheeks flush as he finally, _finally_ pushed open his door and stumbled past the threshold, taking that monumental step toward… _something_. Something with _Teddy_.

Sex? God, he hoped so. (Even as his stomach tightened with mounting nerves.)

Quickly wetting his lips, Teddy stepped inside after him…and shut the door. The solid _click_ of the latch catching sounded absolutely deafening. Billy drew a breath and started to close the distance between them again, but Teddy held up a hand. “Billy,” he said, sounding almost as nervous as Billy felt, “before, um… _Before_ anything, I wanted to make sure you knew… I mean, just because we have, you know, supplies or whatever doesn’t mean we have to do, uh, anything. Or… Umm…” Teddy gave a sudden breathless laugh and clapped his hands over Billy’s eyes. “Wait, stop looking at me like that; you’re wrecking my concentration here.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” Billy said acidly, “I didn’t realize you were _concentrating_ on anything.”

“I’m always concentrating when you’re around,” Teddy murmured, soft, and Billy melted against him with a sigh—lashes flickering against calloused palms as he closed his eyes.

Teddy was always saying stuff like that. So earnest, so raw, like he was inviting Billy deeper and deeper into himself. It was intoxicating, seeing the way Teddy’s brain worked—knowing he was one of the few people who actually _knew_ him. Who was given a glimpse past the façade.

It made him feel so very…

 _Special_.

Also? A little terrified, because he was just some stupid teen; what did he know about dealing with someone as wonderful as Teddy Altman?

Billy breathed in Teddy’s scent, loving the way the warmth cast from his big body soaked into Billy’s. It was like basking in the sunlight, skin prickling in instinctive response. He bit his lower lip and strained to listen to Teddy’s slightly uneven breaths. The sound of traffic drifting from outside. The slow, uneasy settling of the old brownstone. He kept almost opening his mouth to say something to break the silence, and yet somehow (by _another_ minor miracle, Eli would probably say) Billy kept his mouth and his eyes closed—even when Teddy dropped his hand away—and just let himself sink into the moment.

 _I want to be yours_ , he thought, the words taking the subtle weight of a spell. He restrained the impulse to say them aloud—to bring them into being—instead holding that feeling close. Secret. Safe. Surprised at his own control even as his thoughts exploded out like sparklers. _I want you to be mine_.

“Billy,” Teddy said, his breath warm against Billy’s cheek. He was standing so close they were all but touching; the _awareness_ of his big body zipped through Billy’s as if his powers really were responding. He curled his toes and wet his lower lip. “Anything you don’t want to do, any time you want to stop—”

“I don’t want you to stop,” Billy said. His voice was ridiculously throaty, and he had to fight to clear it, feeling reckless and, and, _hopeful_. Turned on and turned around and trembling on the edge of something much bigger than he’d ever expected. How was this happening to him? How was this even possible? “ _Ever_. I, Teddy…”

Teddy’s knuckles rasped across his jaw—gentle, gentle, gentle. “We’ll go slow,” he said; his own voice was pitched low, husky. “Yeah? As slow as we can.”

Billy’s eyes flickered open, the room startlingly bright, Teddy the brightest point in all the world. Afternoon sunlight shone in his hair, in the line of earrings, in those painfully blue eyes locked on his face as if he were drinking Billy in. As if _Billy_ were the marvel between them. “I…don’t mind going fast,” Billy admitted, swaying in until their chests brushed. His skin was itchy again, and his heart was ready to pound out of his chest. He wanted to climb Teddy Altman like a tree.

Teddy chuffed a soft laugh and slid his fingers into Billy’s hair, lightly gripping; _tugging_. “Yeah, I kind of figured you’d be a jump in with both feet kind of guy,” he said, patiently riding out Billy’s full-body writhe. Funny, _crazy_ , how quickly he responded to the other boy. As if Teddy was the source of all that electricity buzzing through his body. “I’d…like to go a little slower than warp speed this time, if you don’t mind. I want to take my time,” Teddy added at Billy’s questioning noise. He ducked his head sheepishly. “I don’t want to miss anything.”

“Okay, Aerosmith,” Billy mumbled, even as his heart gave a stupid little (okay, big) lurch. Teddy really had to _stop_ being so wonderfully romantic. “But if you break out the animal crackers—”

Teddy groaned and fake-swatted at him, the tension falling again, just a little. Just _enough_ for Billy to slip free of Teddy’s gentle grip and turn toward his bed, shyly toeing off his shoes. He was still keyed up, erection straining against the zip of his jeans, but Teddy’s quiet laughter behind him felt like a pressure valve releasing just a little bit of that pent-up energy. “Hey, um,” Billy added, back to Teddy. He could hear the other boy just behind him, sliding off his own shoes; resting a knee on the mattress, a corner dipping under Teddy’s weight. “Question. Before things get too… _before_.”

“Yeah?” Teddy said. Then, when Billy didn’t continue right away: “Hey, it’s okay. You can ask me anything you want. Or just…talk comic books at me or something instead if it’s too much.”

“No, I’m—” There was really no point explaining exactly how ready he was to do just about _anything_ , but something Teddy had said—something Billy had suspected for a long time—kept toying at the corners of his mind. “You said…” He started to turn, hesitated, then forced himself to crawl up onto the mattress and sit facing Teddy, meeting his eyes. Teddy quirked a brow, and Billy reached out for him, tugging until Teddy was crawling into the bed with him.

And the sheer wonder of _that_ (of Teddy Altman _in bed_ with him) was enough to break that unusual filter between Billy’s brain and mouth enough for him to blurt, “You said _this time._ Did you, before, with Greg?”

Teddy froze.

He was on his hands and knees, stopped in the act of crawling forward, and it should have been funny—or maybe hot? And perhaps it was both, in a way, but Billy’s stomach was too busy bottoming out at the stricken look in Teddy’s eyes to notice. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, slithering forward to press into Teddy’s space, kissing his shoulder, his neck, in apology.

Teddy sat back, and Billy pushed into his arms, legs going immediately around him like a sock monkey, arms twining around his neck, panic spiking. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have— It’s none of my business and I shouldn’t have—”

But Teddy was already recovering from the surprise, palms soothing down Billy’s spine. “No, no,” he said. “No, it’s okay. It’s okay; you have every right to know.”

“No I don’t!” Billy said. Teddy was already shaking his head, but Billy rushed on, kissing Teddy’s jaw as if he could let his words sink into golden skin. “No, I don’t—Teddy, I _don’t._ ” And because it was important—because everything with Teddy was important—Billy caught Teddy’s face between his hands and pulled back to look at him. Those blue eyes kept dipping down and away, as if Teddy couldn’t quite bring himself to meet Billy’s gaze now. As if he weren’t used to this…this…this _being open_ shit. Like he couldn’t quite cope without the _shift_ or the _mask or, or, or oh hey_ , maybe that wasn’t too far off the mark.

Billy tipped in, pressing their foreheads together so Teddy didn’t _have_ to look in his eyes if he didn’t want to, and quietly waited him out. He breathed in. He breathed out. He let himself just soak in Teddy’s warmth and strength as all those muscles tightened up beneath him…

…then slowly, bit by bit, piece by piece, began to relax again.

Teddy cleared his throat what felt like an age later (but was probably closer to just a few minutes) and carefully laid a hand at the small of Billy’s back. It felt big and heavy and important there, and Billy wriggled back against it in as obvious welcome as he could manage. Sometimes he just got so wound up in his own head that he forget Teddy really was something, someone, different. Not just _special_ , but complicated and—hurt?

Yeah. Yeah, that fit as well as anything. Teddy was _hurt_ , deep on the inside. A part of him bruised by years of pressure and self-doubt and uncertainty. Billy needed to be careful he never inadvertently added to those endless layers of pain.

Teddy took an unsteady breath, forehead still pressed lightly against Billy’s, eyes closed. The tension had all but faded. “Billy,” he began, soft.

Billy brushed his thumbs across Teddy’s cheeks. “I don’t have the right to know,” Billy said. He tightened his grip when Teddy would have pulled away to look at him. “Wait, hear me out?”

Teddy hesitated a moment, then nodded—reluctantly. Billy nodded with him (an echo, or a closed circuit) and loosened his grip, letting Teddy lean back just far enough to put some distance between them. The conflict was gone from Teddy’s eyes, replaced by confusion.

That was fine; confusion Billy could handle. He was _great_ with his words. “No one has the _right_ to know anything about you,” he said, picking each one carefully.

That confusion just intensified. “But you said no more hiding,” Teddy pointed out.

“Well, _yeah_.” Okay, maybe he was shit with his words. But he thread his fingers through Teddy’s hair and tried anyway, hoping he’d manage to eventually muddle through to the feeling that was pulsing deep in his chest—the protective, worried, hopeful knot of emotion that seemed to grow little by little the more he thought he understood this boy. “I _want_ to know what you’re thinking, and I _want_ to know what you’re feeling, and I _want_ to know, like, every little thing about you. The good stuff and the bad stuff and the stuff you want to hide because you think it’d gross me out or make me mad or make me think you’re weird—which, by the way, it wouldn’t, it won’t; I know you’re not perfect but I kind of think you are perfect for me anyway, so there’s that.”

Teddy blinked at him slowly. He cocked his head. “I…have no idea what you mean,” he admitted.

“I’m talking in Billy,” Billy admitted. “Don’t worry, you’ll eventually learn the full language, but in the meantime, um, so, translation: I _want_ to know everything going on in here,” he rapped his knuckles semi-playfully against Teddy’s forehead, earning a quiet chuff of laughter, “and here.” He pressed his hand over the steady _thud thud thud_ of Teddy’s heart. “And I can ask anytime I think I don’t know. But that doesn’t mean I have a _right_ to be told.”

Teddy still wasn’t getting it; Billy could tell by the way his brows drew together, the way he subtly shook his head. He was so good at hiding himself away. He was also so good at giving everything he was over to someone else, without thought. How fucked up was it that he didn’t seem to realize there was middle ground between the two—that he neither had to constantly defend himself or surrender everything?

“I want you to tell me whatever _you_ want to tell me,” Billy said, trying again. “And even if I really want to know something…if you don’t feel like sharing, I don’t want you to tell me. Even if I really really want you to, I don’t. Really.”

“Okay, now you’re just trying to confuse me,” Teddy said, but some of the emotion must have been bleeding through enough for him to catch hold—he was dragging his hands lightly up and down Billy’s spine, holding him perched on his lap, and that sadness was in his eyes again, only now it was tempered with a hint of a smile.

 _Bit by bit_ , Billy told himself, pressing a kiss between Teddy’s brows, to his nose, his lips. _This kind of mental whammy doesn’t get undone by just a few words and some positive thinking._ “My natural state is confusing,” Billy said, brushing his lips across Teddy’s temple, along the shell of his ear. Teddy shivered and tightened his arms around him, which, oh, was nice. It was very, very nice. “I’m a walking tornado. But, um, anyway, my point is… I had a point.” He sat back, blinking at Teddy—Teddy, who really did smell incredible, and was very warm, and hey, wow, muscles. Lots and lots of really big muscles. “I did have a point, before all…the words. I was trying to ask about the _this time_ thing. And you don’t have to tell me,” he added firmly when Teddy quickly looked away again. “But if you want to tell me, I’d like to, um know. Did you and Greg… I mean. Oh hey, gay sex.”

Billy waved his hand, as if it weren’t any kind of big deal.

Teddy flushed. “Uh,” he said. “Not exactly. I mean, I guess, sort of. Yes. But no. No.”

“…I think it’s your turn to be confusing,” Billy pointed out gently. He had no idea what to make of _I guess, sort of. Yes. But no._

“Sorry,” Teddy said. He shifted awkwardly beneath Billy, but he didn’t let go. His hands actually slid up under Billy’s shirt, fingertips mapping the bare skin beneath—tracing up the knobs of his spine and making Billy shudder. “It’s really complicated. Greg…” He trailed off.

Billy pressed a kiss to Teddy’s shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me,” he reminded him, close to a whisper.

Teddy turned and ducked his head, catching the corner of Billy’s mouth in a soft kiss. “Yeah,” he said quietly, like he was starting to get it—at least intellectually, even if it would probably take longer than a few minutes to unravel the soul-deep knots someone like Greg the Asshole could leave behind. “I want to. I’m just…not sure how you’ll take it.”

Billy went still. “Did he…” _Make you_ , he couldn’t say. It didn’t feel right on his tongue. It brought to mind physical force, when it seemed like Greg’s type of violence had been much more subtle. So he tried to get at the question another way. “Did the two of you, um…”

Teddy buried his face in Billy’s neck. “Not when I looked like this,” he said. Then, because he hadn’t quite managed to fully break Billy’s heart, he added in a quieter voice, “His father drilled so much bullshit into his head about being queer, so, just. It made things easier if I…changed for him.”

Oh.

_Oh._

…oh.

Billy closed his eyes, wrapping himself as tight as he could manage around Teddy. Oh, oh fuck, that quiet confession felt like being punched in the chest. He could hardly breathe around the shock of it—the implications scattering like pebbles in its wake. The—

“I’m explaining it badly,” Teddy said against the skin of Billy’s neck, muffled. “It’s hard to say out loud. It’s just. What I said before? I _have_ been with a guy before, but…I’ve never been with him when I was a guy too. So.”

He tightened his grip even further as if he could squeeze all that complicated, painful history out of him and let him start anew. “So you’ve never been with anyone while you were _you_ ,” he translated.

Teddy went very still. So still Billy was certain he’d said something, done something, terribly wrong. When Teddy lifted his head to look at him, the shutters were partially down again, mask in place—but Billy could read the uncertainty there in a way he was pretty sure no one else, not _even_ Greg the _mother-fucking Asshole_ , could have rivaled. “I…didn’t say that,” Teddy said awkwardly.

Billy fought not to frown, not getting it. “But you just said,” he began, then shook his head. He didn’t want to argue back. “I’m not sure I understand,” he finally settled on.

“I know,” Teddy said. He swallowed, then gave a shaky laugh, palms rubbing up and down Billy’s bare skin as if _Billy_ were the one who needed to be comforted. “I’m not sure I understand completely either. It’s…”

“Complicated?” Billy finished for him when Teddy just trailed off.

Teddy let out a breath. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s really, really complicated. I don’t think I want to talk about it anymore right now,” he added, a hint of a question lingering beneath the words.

Billy wanted to push back (gently!) and try to dig for understanding, but he couldn’t very well tell Teddy that his _primacy of self_ or whatever mattered and then turn around and try to wheedle him into telling him everything anyway. At least not so soon, while Teddy was still not fully recovered from all he’d gone through.

 _Later_ , Billy reassured himself, deliberately wriggling closer to press against Teddy as tight as he could manage, as if he could someone merge their bodies together. _When we’ve been together long enough, and he feels certain in himself and this and everything enough to just tell me to mind my business when I’m being a pest_.

The promise of that _later_ was enough of a balm to his worried curiosity—though he knew he’d be brooding over the bits and pieces Teddy had confessed later, when he was alone. But for now, “Okay,” Billy said, lifting his face and doing his best to smile naturally. It was amazing how easy it was when Teddy began to almost-shyly smile back. “We won’t talk about it anymore right now. How about I make out with your face instead?”

Teddy laughed—a quick, breathless, relieved-slash-happy-slash- _amazing_ sound—and dragged blunt nails down Billy’s spine. “Just like that, huh? Turn over the engine and you’re ready to go?”

Billy shrugged a shoulder, arching into the touch in a sinuous full-body writhe that had Teddy’s breath audibly catching in his chest. “Just like that,” he said, voice already going throaty. It was meant as a joke, but it was really hard to remember that when Teddy’s eyes were starting to dilate in interest. “I’m a teenager, you’re my boyfriend, and I’m literally in bed with you. Add a closed door and an empty apartment and I’m pretty much at the starting line all systems ready.”

He laughed again, those hands sliding down—down— _down_ to cup Billy’s ass and squeeze. That simple touch was more than enough to send sparks flying, and oh, fuck, okay, he was getting turned on again. Sitting in the cradle of Teddy’s thighs, legs around his waist, chests seamed tight together…he was getting _hard_.

And there was no way Teddy couldn’t feel him firming up against his belly.

“Can I,” Teddy began, quiet. So, so very quiet, voice little more than a whisper. Billy was already nodding even before Teddy reached for the hem of his shirt; he could feel the flare of shy worry and embarrassment threatening to overwhelm the pleased sparks swarming in his lower belly, but he refused to let himself think too hard on it. They changed together for practice, like, all the time. Teddy knew what his chest looked like. It was fine. It was nothing new.

(It was everything new.)

He flushed and ducked his head, letting go of Teddy just long enough to squirm his way through the head and armholes. Teddy tugged his shirt up and off, somehow missing a flailing arm as he dropped it on the bed next to them—leaving Billy shivering and exposed and, yeah, fuck, hard. Really, _really_ hard.

Teddy leaned back a little to look at him, his own cheeks heating. Those gorgeous blue eyes were going dark, pupils expanding as he dipped his lashes down down then up, taking Billy in. “You look,” Teddy began, voice catching.

“Scrawny,” Billy supplied for him, fighting the urge to cross his arms over his chest.

Teddy simply slid his hands up Billy’s spine, fingers mapping the shifting muscles. “That wasn’t what I was going to say,” he said. Then, flush deepening, he added: “I want to, um, touch you everywhere.”

“ _Fuck_.” Billy leaned in, brain hiccupping in reflexive response. He felt as if his entire body had been weighted down—as if he were underwater—everything going at once too slow and far too fast. His brain was still struggling to come to terms with what Teddy had told him (what Teddy may have been confessing, threaded deep beneath his words), and his heart was somewhere between breaking and winging in his chest, and his whole _body_ was aching and…

And yeah, yeah, _fuck_ pretty much encapsulated it.

He grabbed at the back of Teddy’s shirt, yanking at it helplessly even as he gave in to impossible temptation and caught Teddy’s mouth in a yielding kiss. It went deep almost immediately, lips parting, tongues slicking—hungry with every bit of anxious longing he’d felt since first meeting this impossible boy. Billy dug his knees into the mattress and surged forward, practically throwing himself into Teddy’s arms, hips dragging across the harsh denim rasp of Teddy’s lap in a way that sent sparks cascading through him.

Because oh, _oh_ , that was Teddy’s _cock_ against his; that was _their cocks_ grinding together with the shift of his weight. That was—Billy whined deep in his chest, pulling hard at Teddy’s shirt even as he thrust his tongue deep into his mouth, riding out the reflexive arc of Teddy’s hips. The mattress moved beneath them, headboard hitting the wall with a solid _thwack_ when Billy squeezed his thighs and ground down against Teddy just as hard as he could manage.

Big hands caught his hips, pulling him in tighter— _tighter_ —and fuck fuck fuck he could feel Teddy’s heat through layers of cloth. His cock felt big, imposing, and, and Billy wanted to touch him. He wanted to push his jeans down slim hips and map its heat through Teddy’s boxers; he wanted to take a gulping breath and tug the elastic of Teddy’s underwear until it sprung free and he could…wrap his fingers around it, rub his body against it, take it into his mouth, _something_. He wanted so much _something_ he thought he might explode, and Teddy hadn’t even managed to get his shirt off yet.

Billy bit at Teddy’s lower lip, hungrily sucking away the sting, struggling to yank that stupid shirt free. His hands felt all kinds of awkward, like he was shaking too much to manage simple coordination, and Teddy wasn’t helping him. No, if anything, Teddy was making it even _more_ impossible, nails digging gentle furrows down Billy’s back, fingertips sliding just past the waist of his jeans as if they were the only thing keeping Teddy from cupping Billy’s ass.

(He was pretty sure he would die if Teddy touched his bare ass. Some kind of sex-related fatality, his heart exploding in his chest at the drag of Teddy’s warm palms and all the possibilities spooling out like streamers in his own overworked brain.)

He leaned back, letting Teddy’s lower lip drag free. It shouldn’t have made him flush so hard to realize they were connected—for just a moment—by a gleaming trail of spit, but _fuck_ that nearly had him curling into a ball and whimpering. This was happening; it was really happening. _To him_. “I,” Billy began, but his voice was already wrecked. All that tension built up at the museum was ramping up inside him again now, as if he were a volcano that had been forced to go dormant—but now, oh, now, he was three steps from exploding and destroying whole civilizations and like, no sacrificed virgins could stop him. Unless _he_ was the sacrificial virgin?

(Or something. He wasn’t thinking very clearly.)

“I want your shirt,” he managed, giving a tug. Teddy’s hands were still on him—were sliding across his hipbones to his stomach, fingertips mapping his quivering skin as if there was anything besides the hopeless dream of abs there—which made it _really freaking hard_ to concentrate. But that seemed fine, since Teddy wasn’t listening to him anyway. “Teddy.”

“Hm?” He looked up to meet Billy’s eyes, visibly dazed. Funny; Billy knew the whole _making out with his boyfriend and oh hey maybe having sex_ thing would send his own brain and body careening off to paths uncharted, but for some reason he never figured _he_ could do the same to _Teddy_. That maybe Teddy was as turned on and turned around by him.

Billy shifted and wrapped his legs around Teddy’s waist, locking his ankles at the small of his back. The way Teddy’s eyes flared—and his hips bucked up, driving them together—made Billy feel powerful. Also, really embarrassingly close to coming, just from this. “Um,” Billy said, forgetting in the flare of heat where he’d been going with this. Why weren’t they kissing right now? Why was— Oh, right. Teddy’s shirt was tugged up high, caught around his pits, revealing a mouth-watering line of abs that seemed to tighten and relax and tighten again as Billy watched. He gave the shirt a sharp tug. “ _Off_.”

“So bossy,” Teddy murmured, but he was grinning, and breathing hard, and absolutely adorably flustered as he pulled back just enough to yank the shirt the rest of the way off. He tossed it aside blindly, the mattress shifting beneath their combined weight—and _oh God yes_ , there was so much golden skin for Billy to admire.

Billy pressed in tight, riding out a full-body shudder at the brush of their bare skin. The rasp of it seemed impossibly loud, underscored by the creak of the bed and their twin panting breaths. “Get used to it,” he managed, going for sassy but sounding more distracted than anything else, because he was in bed with his boyfriend, they were topless, and he was pretty sure he could come in his jeans like, at any moment.

Flushing hot at the thought, he gave Teddy a little push, sending him sprawling back on the bed. Billy followed him down, catching his mouth to swallow the soft moan. The shift in position somehow made everything even _more_ intense, as if they had crossed some invisible line—sprawled across the unmade bed amongst Billy’s pillows and blankets, beginning to rock together in a slowly building rhythm.

A slowly building, really _amazing_ rhythm that Billy could feel in his blood, his bones, the very tempo of his racing heart.

He tangled the fingers of one hand in Teddy’s hair, gripping tight as he slicked their tongues together. He couldn’t help but move over Teddy as he did so, undulating—practically rubbing himself against him. Each grind of their cocks was like a gutpunch, shocking little whimpers out of him, making him shake. When Teddy slid his hands down Billy’s spine to ( _yes_ ) cup his ass, Billy jerked forward and grabbed one of those broad shoulders, holding on for dear life.

Their bare chests kept dragging together; their erections kept grinding; the _noises_ they were making, God, were just incredible. The position was awkward and he kept forgetting to touch Teddy the way he wanted, too intent on holding on for dear life, but he couldn’t think it was anything but perfect. The perfect time and the perfect place and the perfect boy and—

“I’m,” Teddy murmured into his mouth, chasing the words with a swipe of his tongue. They’d wriggled around at some point so that Billy was laying between Teddy’s spread thighs; his hard cock was pressed tighttighttight against Billy’s heaving stomach, the rasp of denim driving him nuts. “Billy, I’m gonna…”

 _Come_. The word rang like a bell between his ears, and Billy groaned in heartfelt agreement. Part of him wanted to put on the brakes long enough so they could catch their breaths, shuck their jeans, and really _do this_ , but the rest of him was strung piano-wire taut. He was shaking and cursing quietly and straining against Teddy, so close it was starting to hurt. He was _dissolving_ with the pressure-turned-pleasure-turned-pain, moaning low in his throat at each swipe of Teddy’s hands down his heaving sides, moaning at each swirl of Teddy’s tongue, moaning at the slick feel of his own precome gathering where his cock strained desperately against his too-tight jeans, and moaning every time he pictured what they must look like: Teddy big and golden beneath him, muscles tight, eyes closed, Billy a writhing mess over him as he strained toward orgasm—just out of sight, just out of reach, just out of—

There was a sharp rap at his door. “Billy,” his mom said, jerking them apart like reversed magnets. Billy levered himself up onto his elbow, staring in _silent horror_ as the door (the _unlocked door_ , _ohfuckshit_ ) began to turn. “Did you hear what I asked?”

“Gragh,” Billy hissed, scrambling. He grabbed blindly for his duvet, left kicked down at the bottom of the unmade bed. He was barely aware of Teddy sitting up and grabbing for his shirt, was barely aware of _anything_ but that door opening in seeming half-time, like something out of a horror movie. He thought he saw the first flicker of his mother shadow casting across the floor the moment he yanked the duvet up over his head—

—and went rolling helplessly off Teddy onto the floor, tangled up within a heavy lump of cotton.

The door creaked; his mother was silent; Billy died a little inside. What, he wondered, had she seen? What was she seeing _now_?

Then, sounding _mind-numbingly normal_ , as if he hadn’t just been rolling around making time with her eldest son, Teddy said, “Oh, hi Mrs. Kaplan.”

“Hello, Teddy,” she said— _pleased_. There was no way in any universe she should be _pleased_ to see a half-naked, hard and horrified teenager in here, which mean that _somehow_ Teddy had managed to pull himself together enough to fool her. Either that or his mother was taking this way more in stride than seemed possible. “…where’s Billy?”

There was a light nudge against Billy’s blanket-burrito. “He’s down there,” Teddy said, a laugh—laughter! Totally normal, talking with the parents, _I was totally not sucking on your son’s face_ laughter—wending through his voice. “I may have been making fun of his new haircut.”

Billy’s mom laughed too. “Is isn’t _that_ bad, Billy,” she said. Then: “Would you like to stay for dinner, Teddy? We were talking about ordering in.”

“Thank you,” Teddy said, as polite as ever, “but I should be getting back home. I promised Mom I’d have a casserole ready by the time she got back from work.”

He could hear the pleased hum his mother made. Could practically _see_ the expression on her face. _What a nice young man_. Billy pressed his forehead against the cool floorboards, eyes squeezed shut and breath still coming way too fast. Still nearly vibrating out of his skin from that _nice young man’s_ touch. “All right. Billy, when you’re ready to face the world again, we’ll be downstairs looking over menus.”

Billy made a strangled noise of agreement, still buried in blankets, still thrumming with residual terror and horror and arousal. He waited until he heard the door click shut, then counted to fifteen as his mother’s footsteps echoed down the hall, just to be sure. Once he was _positive_ she was gone and couldn’t, like, see through the walls and blanket-burrito Superman-style, Billy poked his head up and out.

And _stared_ at Teddy.

Teddy, who looked perfectly normal. His shirt was untucked and maybe a little rumpled, but his hair was tidy, his eyes were no longer dilated, his cheeks were no longer flushed, and his cock—

Billy dropped his gaze to where Teddy’s erection _should_ have been straining against the zip of his jeans. He knew it should have been; he’d _felt_ it not two minutes ago! There was _no freaking way_ — Billy made a strangled half-disbelieving, half-affronted noise and gestured to Teddy as if to say: _explain this!_

Teddy squeezed his eyes shut. “… _ow_ ,” he said, slowly, as if even talking hurt. “Oh Jesus Christ, Billy, _ow_. I have never shifted so fast in my life; I think I broke myself.”

Billy shoved back the blanket, sitting up, shirtless and still half-hard and mussed to within an inch of his life. He felt like he’d been tossed into a wood chipper. “You _shifted away your_ ,” he began, but he couldn’t find the words to express the shear extent of his horror, so he ended up just gesturing to Teddy’s lap again.

“…I really don’t want to do that ever again,” Teddy breathed, legs drawing up slowly as if he’d been kicked right between the thighs. “I really don’t want to even _think_ about doing that ever again. Oh holy jeez, Billy, that was… That was…” He blinked open his eyes, looking dazed and appropriately horrified. “You _mom_ almost caught us.”

“Yeah,” Billy said. The worst part was, Teddy got to go home—Billy had to spend the rest of the evening eating crappy take-out, sitting beneath her eagle-eyed stare and pretending she hadn’t caught him midway through losing his virginity.

He wondered if she would just _know_ the moment she looked at him.

He wondered if he could get away with staying in his room forever.

“I’m just,” Billy decided, grabbing the edges of his blanket burrito and rolling himself up again, losing himself in a cocoon of filtered light and warmth. “I’m just going to be here from now own. Alone. Dying of embarrassment.” But then something occurred to him and Billy popped his head back out, staring Teddy down with all the (flustered) dignity he could muster. “So hey,” he demanded, narrowing his eyes. “What _exactly_ is wrong with my haircut this time?”

And Teddy—still visibly shaken, still a little pale—could only laugh.


	8. Talk Dirty to Me

Billy dove for his phone the moment it started ringing.

“I can’t believe you took this long to call me back!” he hissed, careful to keep his voice down. It was late, and everyone had already gone to bed. The Kaplan brownstone was as quiet as it ever got, old bones creaking, ever-present traffic humming from just outside the closed windows. “What were you trying to do, drive me crazy?”

There was a beat of silence. “ _Drive_ you crazy?” Jamie finally said on a laugh. “Uh, I hate to break the bad news, Billy, but it sounds to me like you’re already—”

Billy flopped back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. A poster of Captain America stared back, mid-salute. “Yeah, yeah, blah blah, can you sass me later?” he said. “I _really_ need to talk to you about something that happened. Like. I _really really_ need to.”

“Aw, hey,” Jamie said—still laughing, the asshole. “Congratulations on losing your V-card!”

Billy was silent.

Jamie’s laughter faded. “…wait,” he said. “That was a joke.”

Billy was silent.

“ _Billy_.” Jamie’s voice rose an octave, cracking down the middle. “That was a joke! Holy cheese, are you actually telling me— Hold on!” he said, and Billy listened to the sound of Jamie scrambling up, followed by a suspicious thud, then footsteps, then the creak of an old door closing. When Jamie spoke again, his voice was pitched much lower and vibrating with excitement. “ _William Kaplan_ , are you telling me you deflowered your innocently nubile young boyfriend???”

He groaned. “You have been reading _way_ too much Fabio,” he said. Then, before Jamie could get any other crazy ideas: “And _no_. I haven’t.” Pause. “Well. Not really. No. Sorta. _No_.”

“Oh God, the suspense,” Jamie breathed. “The utter confusion. The linguistic acrobatics. So which is it? No, sorta, or _really_ no? Also, details. But not too many details,” he added quickly, “because you’re like a brother and my imagination is way too vivid and I’d prefer not to have to disown you and move to Bumfuck, Somewhere to escape the waking nightmare.”

Billy sighed up at his ceiling, _grinning_ despite himself. He’d been vacillating between giddy joy and burning mortification for the last few hours; actually being able to talk about what had happened was like lancing a wound: it might hurt later, but _God_ it felt good now. “Yeah, definitely too many romance novels.”

There was a creak as Jamie settled on his own bed. “No, hold on, I’m liking where this is going,” he said, amusement wending through his words again. “I could sell all my possessions and buy an old car; drive out West and not look back. But then! My car breaks down in this little town in the middle of nowhere, where a friendly…diner? Gas station? Bakery?...just happens to be looking to hire. They take me on despite my lack of references, social security number, or bank account, and put me up in a little studio apartment above the store. Only it turns out the owner’s _daughter_ had been planning on—”

“If you don’t stop running your mouth, _Nora Roberts_ , and let me talk, I’m going to hang up on you—and then you’ll never know what happened.”

Jamie was instantly silent.

Billy waited a minute, just to make sure, but it seemed as if Jamie’s rambling monologue had run its course. It wasn’t even like Billy could blame him for the nervous babbling, though. Billy felt nervous too—and excited—and elated—and terrified—and so many strange, wonderful, conflicting emotions.

Teddy had kissed him. Teddy had…had _touched_ him. Teddy had gently pushed him down onto this very bed and moved against him with intent, and holy heck, holy heck, holy freaking heck that was… He didn’t know what that was! But he knew the afterburn of it left him feeling electrified, as if one brush of Teddy’s mouth had reversed his polarity.

He wondered if Teddy was lying in bed thinking the same thing. He wondered if he dared call to ask.

Billy curled into a helpless, giddy ball, eyes squeezed shut. “We went to the Museum of SEX,” he began, voice pitched low.

Jamie huffed a laugh. “ _Yeah_ you did,” he said, suggestive. Then, immediately contrite: “Sorry. I’m being quiet.”

If he were anywhere nearby, Billy would kick him. As it was, he just made an annoyed noise in the back of his throat. “ _As I was saying,”_ Billy said, “we went to the Museum of SEX. As a, you know, date.” A real date, with his real boyfriend. He wondered if he’d ever grow used to the thought. “The exhibit was on alien biology. It was actually pretty interesting,” he had to admit, rolling onto his back to stare up at the ceiling again. Captain America saluted down at him, just like in all those cheesy safe sex PSAs that used to haunt his most tormentingly confused wet dreams. “They had this giant tank full of these…bright, colorful things. I forget the name. You were supposed to press your face up against the glass and watch as—”

“This is all really interesting,” Jamie interrupted, “but I’m wondering if we can skip to the part where you maybe kinda not really had, you know, _sex_.”

Billy covered his eyes. “I’m getting there!” he said—flushing. As if anyone were around to see him, to judge. As if Jamie ever _would_ judge. “Okay, so, anyway, we went through the new exhibits and headed up to the multimedia room. I wanted to show him…”

How to describe the silent film he’d been so eager to share with Teddy? How to make Jamie understand the breathless, yearning ache of it—the memory of Teddy all those weeks ago, pulling away from what Billy wanted _so desperately_ , overlain like rotoscope with the look in his eyes from just a few hours before? The way he’d pressed in, capturing Billy’s mouth as if he _had_ to be tasting him? The breathless, burning ache that built deep in his belly as they kissed and kissed and kissed, each moment stretching out like the spinning arms of the galaxy with _Teddy Altman_ at its heart and soul?

Billy was pretty sure there were no words that could fully express what it had meant to be pressed back against the wall and kissed as if he were the center of _Teddy’s_ universe too—so he didn’t try. Instead, he added, “I wanted to show him this video, I guess. And he kissed me. And he…kept kissing me.”

“Oh _man_ ,” Jamie said, delighted. As if he couldn’t possibly be happier in this moment.

Billy let out a huff of breath, grinning so hard his face hurt. _This_ was why he’d scrambled for his phone the moment he could. _This_ was why each hour that passed while he waited for Jamie to call him back had been pure torture. His best friend’s joy fed effortlessly into his own, and each word he spoke made everything that had happened feel more real, somehow. More solid. As if he were wishing it all into being with his words.

Except he didn’t have to, did he? Because Teddy wanted him as much as he wanted Teddy, and that… That was… That was so…

He bit his bottom lip, trying to swallow back the manic grin. If anyone could see him now, they really _would_ think he’d lost his mind. “We headed back to my place, after,” he said, leaving out the part where Teddy had touched him. Tucked away in a dark alcove, hyperaware of strangers walking past them unawares, the danger of being caught humming bright and terrifyingly good between them…and Teddy’s hand cupping him, _squeezing_ , fuck.

It was the first time anything other than his own hand had touched his cock, and he was in freaking public. And he wanted to do it _again_. He was such a pervert.

“Mom and Dad were out. So were the twerps. So it was, you know, just us.”

“ _Alone_ ,” Jamie said with an appreciative whistle. “Oh man, Billy, I can’t believe you’re getting smooth enough to get the hot guy _alone_.”

Billy covered his overheated face. “We went up to my room,” he said. “And, um, talked. And started kissing again. And uh…other stuff.”

“Details. But not too many details,” Jamie reminded him quickly. “Just the right amount. Goldilocks it.”

The sheer heat of Teddy’s mouth on his. The electric brush of his tongue, slick against his own, twining deeper and deeper. The width of his shoulders and the fall of golden hair. Big hands spanning Billy’s body as he arched helplessly up into the caress.

He cleared his throat. “We, uh, got to first base,” he said. Then frowned, dropping his arm so he could stare up at the ceiling. “Second based? No, first base. No. Wait. What are the bases again?”

“You’re asking the dweeb who got picked last for _every_ thing, Billy.”

“Nah,” Billy said. He turned his cheek to glance toward his laptop, half-tempted to check. Surely _someone_ had the answer to that. “I’m asking the dweeb who got picked second-to-last for everything, Jamie. _I’m_ the dweeb who was always the last man standing.”

“Not this time,” Jamie said, smug. “Between the two of us, you’re definitely going to lose your virginity first.”

And…and holy shit, he was probably right. Billy slowly sat up, fingers of one hand tangling up in snarls of dark hair. He had no idea why the thought was hitting him so hard now—opposed to when he was literally rolling around with his _boyfriend_ —but it felt like being doused with freezing water. He shivered, excitement and nerves jangling low in his belly; his heart was actually racing.

“…Billy?” Jamie was saying, increasingly louder. “Billy? Hey, Billy, are you there? Did you aneurism? Please tell me you didn’t have some weird sex-related aneurism. I’ll be really pissed if I have to train a new best friend.”

“Shut up,” Billy said automatically. “I’m processing. _Oh my God_ , Jamie, I almost had sex tonight.”

There was a brief silence. “Uh,” Jamie said. “Wait, are you just realizing that? Wasn’t that what you called to gloat about?”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean. Jamie.” He wasn’t getting it. Billy didn’t blame him: sex, when it was just a theory—a thing he could maybe possibly be having _some day_ far in the future with some nebulous person—wasn’t anywhere near the same thing as actual, possible sex he could be having in the next, like, week.

The very idea had him shaken up and jangling inside, excited to rush ahead and experience everything _now now now_ …even as a surprising part of him wanted to pull the covers up over his head and never come out again.

“I can’t believe all this is happening to me,” Billy said. Then: “What if I never went down into that basement?”

Jamie gave a startled laugh. “Um, _come again_?”

Billy drew up his legs, pressing his forehead against his knees. He felt weirdly dizzy. “That used bookstore,” he explained—tried to explain—words coming out as slow as if he were picking out pebbles from a stream. “Where I met Greg the Asshole and Teddy. What if I left with you instead of going downstairs? What if I never ran into him?”

The idea was too horrifying to consider, which is why Billy forced himself to consider it. He’d spent _so fucking long_ wanting this thing he had with Teddy. Even before he’d met Teddy, even before he knew how wonderful and perfect and just everything he was, he’d _wanted_ this desperately. Curled around his pillow, hating everyone who told him how much better his life would be in some nebulous future. Never, never believing a single word of it.

And then he met Teddy and things got so good—and then so bad—and then _so good_ again, and the world might be ending and there was a chance he actually wouldn’t die a virgin.

Fuck. It was a lot to take in, all based on a single _chance_ meeting. It was kinda blowing his mind.

Jamie was talking again. “…would have met him later, right?” he was saying. “When, uh, that…you know…brought all of you together?”

That bit of rock-solid logic popped the existential bubble Billy had been willfully tumbling head-first into. “Oh,” he said, blinking. He hadn’t actually considered the fact that even if he had somehow missed meeting Teddy in the basement of that used bookstore, he would certainly have met _Hulkling_ later. “Oh, huh, okay, that makes sense. So you’re saying this is more of a fate thing.” He was surprisingly okay with _that_ idea; fate felt easier in this moment than pure chaotic chance. Maybe it was because of his powers.

(Maybe it was in spite of his powers.)

A speaking silence echoed through the receiver. Billy had the sinking suspicion that Jamie was _laughing_ at him.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Billy said, before Jamie could take another playful swipe. “I’m going to just not think about all that right now. Instead, I’m going to—” He gave a start, nearly dropping the phone when it beeped in his hands. Billy fumbled for it, cursing quietly as he checked the faceplate…and began to flush the moment he saw Teddy’s name on the screen.

 _Oh_ , a small, quiet part of him whispered, blooming with pleasure—with remembered heat. He bit his bottom lip, staring at the picture of Teddy he’d snapped just a few days ago: head tipped toward the sunlight, eyes closed against the heat, a soft smile on his (kissable) mouth.

Billy cleared his throat and put his phone against his ear again. “Hey,” he said, “sorry. Someone’s, uh…” _No_ , he reminded himself, _no more lies._ “I mean, _Teddy_ is on the other line. Is it okay if I…”

Jamie, bless him, was quick to say, “Yes, yes, seriously, _yes_ , answer it! Talk to him! Text me the details, Goldilocks!” Then, just as Billy was gratefully ending the call to pick up Teddy’s: “ _Tell him thank you for the almost-sex!_ ”

Billy fumbled the phone again, pressing the green call button and silently seething. (Flushed so hot he could barely stand it.)

“…hello?” Teddy’s voice drifted from the line.

“Hey,” Billy said, sandwiching the phone between his shoulder and ear. He fell back against his pillows, scrubbing at his cheeks as if he could somehow chase away the blush. “Sorry, I was on the other line with Jamie.”

“Oh. You can call him back, if you want,” Teddy offered. “I didn’t mean to—”

Billy cut in quickly. “No, no, it’s okay. We weren’t saying much anyway.” He paused. “…hi.”

“Hi. Again,” Teddy said.

“Hi again,” he agreed. “For the third time now. Um. How was the ride back to Brooklyn?”

There was a soft creak in the background, as if Teddy had shifted on the couch…or the bed? Music was playing, muted—something classic rock, if he knew Teddy. (And strange as it might have seemed to him just a few weeks ago, he really did think he was getting to _know_ Teddy, down to the core.) “It was okay,” Teddy said. “There was this really nice guy busking down the R, singing old show tunes. I didn’t really have much change on me, so I ended up—”

“Teddy, you didn’t,” Billy groaned.

“—helping out.” Teddy paused a beat. “We sang a duet for a group of college girls.” Pause. “I hadn’t realized I remembered so many words to _Hello Dolly_.”

His face hurt he was grinning so hard. “Oh my God, seriously, I swear you’re not actually a real person. Someday during practice, Eli is going to punch you too hard and you’ll explode into candy or something.”

“Skittles?” Teddy said. Then, at Billy’s questioning noise: “You know…taste the rainbow?”

“I’ll taste your rainbow,” Billy said reflexively, just because it was the sort of thing he and Jamie did all the time. The slight awkward pause on the other end of the line had him clearing his throat. “Uh, I mean, not that I’m saying… Not that… I mean, I wouldn’t…” He paused. Sighed. “Be able to end this sentence with my dignity intact, apparently.”

Teddy just laughed, low and warm—warm enough to have Billy shifting against the sheets in reaction. “Come on Billy, don’t you remember?” he teased. “Dignity’s for the weak of spirit.”

“Yeah, so, I _still_ don’t know what you mean by that.”

“Yeah, _so_ ,” Teddy laughed, “neither do I: but doesn’t it make me sound all wise and mysterious and junk?”

God, he loved this boy. “Uh-huh,” Billy said. “ _So_ mysterious. But anyway, what’s up? Uh, did your mom make it home and all?”

“Yeah, she crashed a little while ago. I would have called you earlier, but I wanted to make sure she was, um, you know, actually asleep.”

That had Billy sitting up, skin prickling in response. “Uh-oh,” he said, instantly on high alert. If Teddy needed to talk about something his mother couldn’t overhear, then it probably wasn’t anything good. “Did Nate reach out to you? Has he heard anything? Wait, it’s not Kang is it?”

Teddy’s silence had him struggling up onto his knees, panic spiking. “Oh fuck, it is, isn’t it? Nate’s gotten news about Kang, hasn’t he? Are we meeting tonight? Do you guys need me to sneak out? Everyone’s asleep, so I should be able to—”

“Billy, _Billy_ ,” Teddy was saying, cutting into his rising panic. “Wait, stop, _no_. No, it’s not Kang. I promise you, if Kang was about to attack the city, I wouldn’t open the conversation with _Hello Dolly_.”

Okay, that made sense, but, “Maybe you were talking in some kind of crazy code. Or you were trying to keep me from freaking out by lulling me into a false sense of security via showtunes.”

“Would that really work?” Teddy asked, sounding curious.

“…you underestimate my pathological love of _The Sound of Music_ if you have to ask that,” Billy had to point out.

Teddy laughed. “Okay, fair. But I promise you, _this time_ I’m not trying to disguise apocalyptic news with jazz hands.”

“ _This time_ , he says,” Billy muttered, flopping back against his pillows again.

“I wanted to wait until Mom was asleep because she’s been working herself like crazy and I didn’t want to risk keeping her up,” Teddy continued as if Billy hadn’t said anything. “And, uh, I wanted to talk to you about…you know…what happened. Tonight.”

Billy slowly blinked up at his ceiling, _feeling_ the blush crash over him like lava pouring over the lip of a long-dormant volcano. “Uh...tonight?” he squeaked.

“You know,” Teddy said. Then, voice lowering—going soft and quiet and _husky_ in its intimacy—he added, “Tonight.”

“Tonight,” Billy echoed again, encased in lava, freaking burning alive. His heart had kicked up into a rapid thrum, and he swore he could hear its racing beats. He wet his lips, shifting against the mattress, nervous excitement…mixed with just plain _excitement_ …thrumming through him.

Teddy wanted to talk about what had _happened_. He’d waited until their families were all in bed so they could lay sprawled across their disparate mattresses and stare up at their ceilings and… _talk_. About what had—

Billy clapped a hand over his mouth before one of the embarrassing noises building in his chest could escape.

“Billy?” Teddy said after what felt like both an impossible silence and no time at all. “Are you still there?”

Billy reflexively nodded in response before realizing…oh hey, duh, Teddy couldn’t see him. (And thank God, _thank God_ for that, because if Teddy could see him blushing and rolling around on the mattress in a confused bundle of nerves and hormones and giddy joy, there was a good chance he’d come to his senses and _dump Billy’s dorky ass._ ) “I, right, yes,” he said. “Yes, I’m here, I’m—I can talk. About tonight. About…hi.”

Teddy laughed. “While I’m pretty sure we thoroughly covered greetings before,” he said. “Hi. You know,” Teddy added, “we don’t _have_ to talk about anything. We can just let it, um, be. Like the Beatles. Except. More grabby. And. Oh my God, now I sound like you; it’s _infectious._ ”

Billy covered his eyes with one hand, helplessly laughing with him. It felt _good_ , a very necessary release of tension, and something about their shared laughter—and the warmth in his chest—and the sum of all the parts that was Teddy freaking Altman made this whole crazy thing just a little bit easier to handle.

“I like what happened tonight,” Billy said before he could lose his nerve again. Teddy’s laughter faded into something soft, and Billy curled around his phone, hand still clapped over his eyes as if he needed that darkness to keep focused on what he wanted to say. “I mean, not the part where my mother scared ten years off my life, but…the rest of it. The, um. Kissing and…stuff.”

Could he really not actually say the words?

“I liked it too,” Teddy said quietly. His voice had dropped in register again, gone a little husky, as if he were _remembering_ what they had done. Kissing and touching and rolling around on Billy’s _bed_. Veering rapidly into something serious that had everything in him reverberating in response. “I was worried I pushed too hard, too fast, though. I mean…I kinda put my foot on the accelerator and headed straight toward the wall.”

Billy cleared his throat. “Uh, this wall _really_ liked it.” Then he paused and dropped his hand, blinking up at the ceiling. “Or, wait, am I the car in this tortured metaphor?”

“You’re something, all right.” That smile was back in Teddy’s voice. If Billy made nothing else out of his life—if he never became a hero, or a productive member of society, or even a halfway decent human being—at least he could go to his grave knowing he’d made Teddy smile again and again. Forget whatever weird crap he could do— _that_ was his real superpower. “I just…want to do this right. I don’t want to freak you out or scare you away.”

“Teddy,” Billy said with as much earnest weight as he could muster, “I _promise_ you, I know my own limits. I know how to say no when I want to.” Of the two of them, he wasn’t the one who had that issue…and fuck, no, that was too depressing to think about right now; he pushed it out of his mind. “If you do something I don’t like…which, I’m going to be honest here, is pretty unlikely considering so far I like almost _everything_ you do…I’ll tell you.”

“You promise?”

It always broke Billy’s heart when he sensed the damage in Teddy—the uncertainty bred by years of mistreatment. He swallowed. “I _promise_ ,” he said. Then, to lighten the mood again: “So how long have you been a total exhibitionist? Your boyfriend wants to know.”

Teddy laughed. “I’m not, actually,” he said. “It’s just that whenever I’m around you, I don’t much care where I am and who’s there to see me.”

Billy sucked in a breath, tensing in response; he could actually _feel_ his brain derail at those words, at that voice, skidding hard toward a mental wall as— Holy shit, that was hot. That was— “You want me that bad, huh?” he managed, voice coming out strangled. The low eddies of pleasure that had been blooming in his gut from the moment he first heard Teddy’s voice expanded out through his body in firecracker bursts. Just, fuck, the image of that was enough to have his blood thrumming. The image of Teddy _wanting him_ ; of Teddy holding tight to control because he didn’t want to frighten Billy away, pushing back the desire to nudge Billy against the wall of their practice room, the _lockers_ , a streetlamp, and lick his way deep into his mouth, utterly shameless and greedy.

It was like the couple at Coney Island Billy had been so desperately jealous of, and fuck, fuck, he could have that. _They_ could have that. Leaning against warm brick and losing themselves in each other—slick and messy and veering into indecent; just another pair of horny teenagers arching up against each other like there was no one else in the world.

Like it wasn’t their job to _save_ the world.

Teddy’s hands on his hips and his fingers tangling in golden hair as he pushed up against the solid rasp of his jean-covered erection, needing, needing, needing—

“…I’m starting to wish this was a Skype call,” Teddy was saying from what felt like somewhere very far away. “I can’t tell what these long silences are supposed to mean.”

Billy blinked away the haze of joy and want, realizing he’d let the phone drop to his pillow. He grabbed for it, blushing, deliberately averting his eyes from the poster of Captain America on his ceiling as he adjusted his erection. Fuck, he was hard. Could Teddy tell? Could he hear it in his voice? “Sorry,” Billy said, breathless. “Sorry, sorry, I just… You broke me for a second there.”

“Good breaking?” Teddy asked slowly.

“Very, _very_ good breaking. Um, wow, hi. _Hot_. How are you so _hot_?”

Teddy laughed, but there was a shy, husky note to it, like he was just starting to catch on to how _good_ that breaking really was. “Uh, I hate to break it to you, Billy, but I’m really not.”

“Uh, I hate to break it to you, _Teddy_ ,” Billy said, squeezing his eyes shut and controlling the impulse to cup himself through his pajama pants, “but you really, really are.”

“You may be a little biased,” Teddy pointed out, and that husky tone was heavier now, as if he were responding to Billy. As if he could hear the edge in Billy’s voice, could picture just how flushed and turned on (turned around) he was…and he liked it.

Like. A _lot_.

God, Billy hoped he liked it a lot.

He cleared his throat. “I’m a little biased,” he admitted. “But still. _Still_. Um. Hey, so, about that whole Skype thing…you wanna?” Seeing Teddy now would be an incredible tease, but it would also give him fantastic images to take to bed with him tonight. The messy blond hair, the flush he was sure was painting the other boy’s cheeks, the shy little smile and the way he watched Billy with such intense focus, as if he were the most interesting person in the world—Billy wanted to take _that_ with him as he settled down amongst his pillows and pushed a hand under the waist of his pajama pants.

“Actually,” Teddy said, “I’d rather not Skype right now.”

 _Oh._ Billy’s hope of stealing a few more wank fantasies to take to bed with him dissipated like a popped soap bubble. “Okay,” he said, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “Well, that’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow anyway—”

“Um,” Teddy said, interrupting. “I mean…I’d rather not Skype, because I’m not sure I could look you in the eye and say all this stuff. Not yet.”

“This stuff?” He blinked open his eyes. “Like…relationship stuff?”

Teddy made a strange, almost-pained noise. “ _No_ , Billy,” he said, laughter and fondness and…something else…wending through his words. “Like _sexy_ stuff. You know,” Teddy added when Billy’s throat went dry and refused to let him make a sound, “like, uh… _I’d really like permission to, um, suck your cock if that would be all right with you._ That kind of stuff.”

“Oh!” he said—squeaked, really. It was really, really shameful how quickly his whole body locked up at those words coming out of Teddy’s mouth…in Teddy’s slightly round Brooklyn drawl, painting a, wow, really quite evocative picture in Billy’s overworked imagination. “I, uh…wow, Teddy. That’s some…really polite dirty talk you’ve got there.”

Teddy snorted a laugh.

“No, seriously,” Billy said, “it’s practically Canadian.” He squirmed back against his pillow, fighting the impulse to flip over onto his stomach and grind subtly against the mattress. No one would ever know. Except…except Teddy would _want_ to know, because apparently Teddy Altman was determined to completely blow his mind.

(Amongst other things.)

(Oh God, he needed to stop making himself choke over his own stupid puns when _Teddy Altman wanted to have phone sex with him_.)

“I think you mean,” Teddy was saying, “it’s practically Canadian, _eh_?”

Billy groaned. “Oh yeah, give it to me _good_ Major Mapleleaf.”

“You want some of this, bub?” Teddy said, and the two of them were laughing just a little too loud, three steps away from hysterical because…because Teddy wanted to suck his cock, and he had no idea what he was supposed to say to that except: “I graciously accept.” Because Teddy wasn’t the only one of them with manners.

There was a long, long silence. Then Teddy cleared his throat. “Uh, seriously?”

“…as serious as the offer?” he tried. That seemed safe. Safer than admitting his erection was already straining obscenely against his pajama pants, painting a (growing) wet spot right above freaking Pikachu’s face and, okay, _that_ was ten kinds of disturbing. He was quite firmly never going to think of that again. “I mean, if you were joking, I—”

“I wasn’t,” Teddy said quickly, hoarsely, all that rumbling intent back in his voice. It was crazy how quickly they could switch gears from laughter to… _this_. This hot, aching knot deep in his belly, urgent enough to have him shifting restlessly against the sheets. “I wasn’t joking. If you want to, then I want to.”

 _Fuck._ “I want to,” he assured Teddy. “I really, really want to. I just…have no idea how to do this, you know?”

He let out what sounded like a relieved sigh. “Me neither,” Teddy admitted. “I just am so restless under my skin. All I can think about is you. What you felt like. What you tasted like. What you _sounded_ like.”

“…oh shit, _that’s_ you not being good at this?” Billy whispered. “I am so screwed.”

Teddy laughed again, this time all warm and intimate in Billy’s ear, making him squirm. And okay, no, he had to ditch the Pikachu. If he came with his boyfriend’s softly rasping laughter in his ear, it _wasn’t_ going to be in Pokémon pjs. Billy tucked his phone between his shoulder and his ear, squirming so he could grab at the waist of his pajama pants, pushing them down his skinny hips. The boxers came too, down to mid-thigh, tangled up in the thicker fabric, and Billy had to bite his bottom lip _hard_ when his cock sprang free—thick and flushed and glistening at the tip. Harder than he could ever remember being. (Well, when alone. He was pretty sure Teddy pushing him down against the mattress and moving over him like some kind of teenage _sex god_ was the hardest he’d ever been, period.)

“What are you doing?” Teddy murmured, and Billy shuddered again. He hooked his thumbs in the waist of his boxers, ready to pull them back up…then paused. Let out a shuddery breath.

Kicked both boxers and pajama pants toward the bottom of his bed, leaving him half-naked and exposed in the dim light of his bedroom.

“I’m…slipping into something more comfortable,” Billy said, trying for sexy, but it just came out sounding dumb. “Or, actually, um, _out_ of something…comfortable. Or, yeah.”

“Are you naked?” Teddy asked on a breath, and it should have been embarrassing to hear the question stated so baldly; instead, Billy swallowed a whimper as his cock twitched, leaving a dribble of precome across the tightening skin of his belly. “Right now, Billy? Are you naked?”

He let out a slow breath, grabbing for the hem of his shirt and yanking it over his head. Billy tossed it aside blindly, not caring where it fell, entire body shivering at the feeling of phantom eyes on him. Would Teddy like what he saw, if he was here now? Would he want to put his hands on Billy? Would he want to…to lick his way down his heaving body and press his mouth to the flushed head of Billy’s cock?

Billy bit the inside of his lip hard, reaching down to wrap his fingers tight around the base. “Y-yeah,” he said, eyes slipping shut. It was easier to imagine Teddy there if he closed his eyes. It was easier to imagine big, rough-yet-gentle hands on him if he just listened to the irregular (quickening) rise and fall of Teddy’s breath, the creak of his bed, the shift of cloth. “I’m…yeah. Are you?”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Teddy said, feelingly. There was another, heavier creak, followed by the obvious _whisk_ of fabric. “I just pulled off my shirt. I’m—I’m taking off my pants now.”

“ _Oh my God_.” He had to squeeze his cock _tight_ to keep from coming just from those words. Just from the _image_ of Teddy rising up onto his knees, phone cradled against his cheek, thumbs hooking into the waist of his own pajama pants. Sllllooooooowly pushing them down until they revealed a path of golden hair, the sharp wings of his hipbones, his cut hips and and and—

He threw back his head, opening his eyes again to stare up at the ceiling. Captain America stared down from his poster, mid-salute. Pure as apple pie and definitely judging him right now.

Billy whined and rolled over onto his stomach, restlessly thrusting down once. The mattress shifted beneath him and he closed his eyes again, determinedly pushing the image of that red-white-and-blue perfection out of his head. Captain America could bite his ass; there were more important things to focus on right now.

“Touch yourself,” he breathed, picturing it, then whined again at the image: too turned on to be embarrassed anymore. Captain America Who? “Fuck, fuck, Teddy, touch yourself, I want you to be—I want you to stroke down once, with me.”

“With you,” Teddy agreed. He sounded winded, as if hearing Billy say those words affected _him_ the way his, well, everything was affecting Billy. “Now, Billy. I’m st-stroking myself _now_. God. It feels—”

“Yeah,” he said, digging his forehead against his pillow. Billy arched up his hips, thrusting once into the tightening vise of his grip. The mattress creaked beneath him and his fingers were increasingly slick with precome and it was _all too mind-bendingly easy_ to imagine it was Teddy he was pushing into. Slow, slow, achingly slow, giving him time to adjust beneath him. Gentle, because fuck if he didn’t want to be _so good_ for him—good _to_ him, giving him all the reassurances, the warmth, the love Greg the _fucking_ Asshole never had. Just kissing across acres of golden skin and tonguing away beads of sweat as he—

Billy muffled a cry against his pillow, hips stuttering into the next thrust.

“Tell me what you’re doing,” Teddy said—begged—his voice cracking. He was starting to sound absolutely wrecked, as if Billy really were thrusting oh-so slowly into him, and the way his voice caught deep in his chest was enough to make Billy’s toes curl.

“I-I,” he began, heaving out a breath. The phone slipped toward the mattress and Billy rested his weight on one forearm, letting go of his (holy fuck) generously weeping cock to fumble it back to his ear. He didn’t want to miss a single moment of Teddy’s muffled, breathy moans. “I’m on my stomach,” he said. “Weight mostly on my knees so I can, um…”

Teddy let out a soft sigh. “Thrust down,” he said, getting it at once. Then, because he seemed determined to utterly blow Billy’s mind: “You want to fuck me, don’t you?”

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

Billy bit his pillow to help muffle the sound he made at that—punched out of him by sheer, shocked _hunger_. Yes, yes, that’s exactly what his body wanted right now, but hearing Teddy say those words made it altogether too real…and yet not nearly real enough. “I,” he managed, words coming out strangled and indistinct; he didn’t dare turn his face completely away or he might not be able to stop himself from crying out loud enough to _wake someone_. “I, uh, um, how do you feel about that?”

“Sometimes I use my fingers when I think about you,” Teddy admitted, and Billy had to scramble to grab the base of his dick and squeeze brutally hard to keep that image from sending him over the falls.

He choked on his own spit, rubbing his forehead back and forth against the pillow as his hips helplessly bucked forward again and again, rutting against empty air. There was a growing wet spot on the mattress just beneath him, and he’d be mortified if there was anyone actually here with him…but then, there _was_ someone here with him, wasn’t there? For the first time in his life, there was another presence there as he touched himself, stroked himself, got himself  off to all the tumbling pictures in his head.

Living, breathing, quietly gasping _Teddy_ _Altman_ , each stuttered breath in Billy’s ear hot enough to—

Billy suddenly lifted his head. “…are you doing it _right now_?” he demanded.

“Starting to,” Teddy said, and the confession was enough to make Billy’s whole world dissolve into a shimmering heat wave of pure _want_. Oh, oh God, oh, he wanted to _see_ that; he wanted to _be_ there. He wanted to kneel between Teddy’s spread legs and hold his thighs apart with trembling hands as Teddy reached between his legs—flushed cock bobbing temptingly, leaving puddles of pre-come on his ridiculously toned belly—and brushed spit-slick fingers along the tight clench of his hole.

Pressing in, just a little. Preparing himself.

Fucking. Hell.

“I’ve never,” Billy blurted, but of course, _of course_ he hadn’t. All of this was a brand new world for him. “I want to,” he tried again, but of course they both knew exactly what he wanted.

Even better, he knew what _Teddy_ wanted—and somehow, by some miracle, Teddy wanted him. The idea was enough to have him shaking and stroking himself again, nearly trembling apart with the enormity of everything that was between them now. “Teddy,” Billy gasped, imagining his boyfriend pressing a finger inside of himself; imagining the way Teddy’s hot, panting breaths would feel against his parted lips as he hovered close, watching pupils dilate, eating up all that gorgeous blue; desire leaving the changeling he loved flushed and out of control and _his_ , fuck, yes, all his and _no one_ would ever take Teddy from him. He’d do anything to protect him; he’d do anything to touch him right now.

“ ** _I want to be with you_** ,” he said, _feeling_ the weight of those words filling him up like a helium balloon, and—

And—

“Shit, wait, no!” Billy gasped, head jerking up, but it was already too late. The world expanded in a shower of blue sparks, the posters that lined his walls giving way to the colorful swooping lines of the Aurora. He felt a chill work its way down his spine and the phone dropped onto an unfamiliar mattress, landing right next to _Teddy_ —sprawled out beneath him like some kind of invitation to sin, all bare flushed skin and—

Teddy _yelped_ at Billy’s sudden appearance, scrambling back with lightning fast reflexes. His head smacked hard against the headboard—headboard slamming even harder against the wall—one hand jerking out instinctively— _lamp_ beginning to wobble in warning, and it would have been funny if Billy weren’t so incredibly horrified.

The whole scene crystalized in slow motion. Billy, blue light still fading from his skin, kneeling desperately hard and naked over Teddy’s legs. Teddy slammed back against the headboard, blinking at him in a mixture of shock and confusion and lingering desire. (Naked, too, and gorgeous and hard and wow. Just, _wow_.) The lamp sloooowly teetering, tipping, tumbling to the floor as they blinked at each other in mutual growing horror, Teddy’s apartment so very quiet around them until the inevitable,

_CRASH!_

Billy flinched at the sound of shattering glass; Teddy sucked in a breath. Time seemed to relax back into its normal flow as glass scattered across the wooden floorboards.

Teddy straightened, still naked and still hard and still very close to Billy. “ _What are you doing_?” he hissed beneath his breath, catching Billy’s elbow.

This was _not_ how he’d dreamed of his first time being truly naked with another boy going. “I didn’t mean to!” Billy said—then closed his eyes and _moaned_ at the sound of a door opening. “Oh _no_.”

“Mom. Hell. _Hide_ ,” Teddy said, giving Billy a gentle shove. He followed Billy off the bed, seemingly impervious to the bits of glass scattering the floor. His naked cock bounced with the movement, still hard despite everything (and oh God, Billy could _relate_.) “The closet.”

“Of course the closet,” Billy muttered, but he was already sprinting (quietly!) across the room, throwing himself inside and pulling the door shut as Teddy began yanking on clothes. He could hear muffled footsteps, followed by a soft knock and a worried voice: “Teddy? Is everything all right?”

Billy let his forehead fall against the cool wood of Teddy’s closet door, the darkness soothing. Teddy called something back, a little strangled-sounding, but Billy was too busy drowning in shame to hear him. He couldn’t believe he’d teleported himself into his boyfriend’s bed. He couldn’t _believe_ —

No. No, he could totally believe it, and crap, crap, he really needed to get a handle on these powers. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head back and forth—arousal fading and shoulders hunching as he half-listened to the muffled conversation on the other side of the door. There was the creak of old hinges and footsteps again. Then silence.

Silence.

…silence.

Finally, what felt like an eon later, there was a light tap on the closet door.

Billy sucked in a breath, tempted to just stay in Teddy’s closet forever, but… He sighed and pushed open the door, making what he hoped was the world’s most apologetic face.

Teddy stood on the other side, dressed in pajama bottoms and an inside-out t-shirt. His hair was a mess of tangles and his cheeks seemed to be permanently red. He held Billy’s cell phone in one faintly trembling hand. The lamp, Billy absently noted, had been swept up. “I…what was… _Billy_.”

“I _know_ ,” Billy groaned, quietly. So, so very quietly. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You realize that just makes it _worse?_ ” Teddy said. “That you’re still using your powers without meaning to?”

Billy covered his face with his hands. “ _I know_ ,” he said. “Oh my God, I am so sorry. I am so—”

Teddy made a strangled noise, as if whatever he was going to say next had caught in his throat. Billy dropped his hands, curious, and nearly immolated when he realized… _Teddy was looking at his cock._ His still very naked cock. His still very naked and shriveled up with embarrassment and undying shame cock.

This was not how he’d wanted his evening to end.

“I!” Billy said, hands instinctively jerking down to cover himself. He could feel that he was just as red as Teddy, cheeks flushing hot as Teddy quickly turned away—giving him privacy, as if they hadn’t just been talking filthy to each other, and, “Please let this be a really bizarre stress nightmare.”

Teddy gave a strangled laugh, moving to his dresser. He pulled out a pair of boxers, a t-shirt, and sweatpants, tossing them blindly over his shoulder toward Billy. Billy (just barely) caught them and slithered into them in record time, not even protesting the way Teddy’s clothes practically swallowed him alive. _Whatever_ , it was fine. He yanked on the drawstring to tighten the waist, hiking up the pooling legs as best he could.

“We’ll have to tell Eli and Nate about this,” Teddy said, back still to Billy.

Billy’s head jerked up. “What the heck?” he demanded, just barely remembering to keep his voice down. He stepped forward, and Teddy must have taken that as his cue to turn back around. His cheeks, Billy noted, were _still_ flushed pink. “No, no, we are not telling them…um, _any_ of this.”

“Not the _details_ ,” Teddy agreed quickly, “but they need to know about the teleporting on accident.”

“No, they really, really don’t,” he said. “They really— Teddy, do you realize how much my life will suck if Eli and Nate gang up on me about my powers? I’m talking, like, endless self-help homework and trust falls. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Teddy made a sympathetic face. “Maybe,” he had to admit—because both Eli and Nate could be intense when it came to perfecting the use of their powers, and this kind of slip-up would send both of them into a freefall of worry and the need to get _involved_. “But Billy, if what we’re doing isn’t enough to help you learn to control them… I mean… What if this happens again?”

“Then we don’t break any lamps next time,” Billy said, crossing his arms. “Problem solved!”

But Teddy’s expression was going soft and worried as he stepped in close, and Billy melted at the first brush of knuckles against his jaw. “What if next time you end up somewhere you don’t actually want to be?” he murmured. “What if you get hurt? I’m…I’m worried, Billy.”

He sighed and closed his eyes, tipping his face toward the gentle caress. _Damn it_. “I’ll think about it,” Billy said, capitulating. “And we’ll talk it over tomorrow…when I’m not hiding out in your room.” He sighed, reaching up to curl his fingers around Teddy’s wrist, his other hand dropping to Teddy’s waist. “…hell,” he said. “Now I have to sneak out of your apartment, cross back out of Brooklyn, and find a way into my room without anyone catching me.”

“I can call an Uber,” Teddy offered. “This time of night, it’ll be faster than the subway.”

Billy cracked open an eye, checking Teddy’s expression. “Maybe I could try to use my powers to teleport _back_ ,” he began—only to instantly change tracks at the _look_ on his boyfriend’s face. “Okay, okay, never mind. I won’t use my highly unpredictable powers to hurtle myself through time and space. Sheesh.”

Teddy let out a puff of breath that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. He slid his hand around—Billy’s dropping between them—to cup the back of Billy’s neck, tugging him in to press a soft kiss between his brows. “Thanks,” he said, breath stirring Billy’s hair. Then he chuckled. “I…still can’t believe you teleported into my bed in the middle of, um, that.”

Billy made a grouchy noise. “I still can’t believe I didn’t get to finish,” he muttered. “That’s _twice_. Twice today fate and our mothers have stopped us from, you know. Today is the _worst_.”

“Well,” Teddy said, pulling back at look at him. His smile was shy and sweet and altogether too tempting. The color was back in his cheeks, blooming across his skin in whorls of pink—beautiful in a way Billy, for all his fast talking, would never be able to put into words. “You know…there’s always tomorrow.”

Billy sighed, heart giving a tell-tale lurch. _God_ , he loved this boy. “ _Thanks_ , little orphan Annie,” he said dryly, stomach fluttering in pleasure at the way Teddy burst into (muffled) laughter. It felt so, so incredibly good to see that flashing dimple, this one moment somehow making up for the embarrassment and frustration and chaos caused by that one simple wish: to be as close to Teddy as possible. To always be near. “I’ll remember that when I’m shimmying up my drain pipe later.”

“You should,” Teddy said, then tilted his head. “I mean, after all…”

“ _Please_ don’t,” Billy laugh-groaned, reaching up to try to cover Teddy’s mouth.

Teddy caught his hands and kissed his fingers, blue eyes glinting devilishly. Because he was the _absolute worst_ (read: best). “…it’s only a day away.”


	9. Friday I'm in Love

“All right, you two,” Eli said, tossing his balled-up t-shirt into the locker. He nudged it shut with his hip, already pulling up his hood until it covered his face, making his eyes disappear behind two flat, almond-shaped disks. “We’re starting with wind sprints today, so I don’t want you dawdling back here.”

Billy groaned. “ _Wind sprints?”_ he said, practically feeling himself deflate.

Teddy just laughed. “ _Dawdling_?” he teased. “All right, Grandpa.”

“Hey!” Eli snapped. He walked backward toward the door that would lead out into the main training room, expression completely lost beneath the stifling Patriot mask. “Respect your damn elders, young man, and don’t give me any lip. Six minutes and you two better be out there.”

“Yes sir!” Teddy said, still grinning.

Billy slumped against the lockers and moaned. “ _Wind sprints_ ,” he said again, letting his head fall back dramatically. Eli just shook his head and pushed his way through the swinging door, an obnoxious bounce in his step. The sadist actually enjoyed the punishing cardio regime Nate had put them all on. It was almost enough to have Billy contemplating switching sides.

“You know,” he said, rolling his head to look at Teddy, “I’ll bet you ten shiny nickels that Kang the Conqueror wouldn’t make us do wind sprints.”

Teddy glanced over at him, grin morphing into something a little warmer—his _Billy-smile_ , the one he only shared when they were alone, and ugh, _ugh_ , now Billy’s stomach was dropping, his toes were curling and he only had _five minutes_ before the grueling torture-exercise began.

“Stop it,” Billy muttered, turning away from his boyfriend before he combusted with joy or something. He reached into his locker for his cape, giving the crotch of his tights a subtle tug. No matter how high-end the spandex, it seemed, riding up was always going to be the real enemy.

Teddy just laughed. “Stop what?” he said. There was a soft _whisk_ of fabric as he pulled off his shirt. Only an incredible feat of willpower kept Billy from craning around to get an eyeful.

“Stop it with your face,” he said, and made his own face when that laughter just grew warmer, richer. _Better_ , and gross, now he felt all fluttery inside right before major exercise. Teddy was a menace who just couldn’t be stopped. “You know, maybe this whole defecting thing has its merits.” Billy snagged his diadem, one thumb running up the tip of the left wing. They were obnoxious as anything if he had to do more than stand there and look pretty, but _God_ he loved them. “Do you figure Kang’s taking applications for sidekick?”

“Don’t let Eli hear you saying that word,” Teddy warned. His voice was closer, coming from right over Billy’s shoulder, as if he couldn’t keep from drifting near. As if, like Billy, he just couldn’t resist being pulled into his orbit over and over again. As if he couldn’t help but want to be _close_.

The idea had Billy ducking his head to hide a smile, even as Teddy leaned down to kiss the knob of his spine right where it edged up into his nape. “What, Kang?”

Teddy laughed. “No,” he said, kissing a breath higher, up toward his hairline. “ _Sidekick_. You know how he feels about that. Oh, uh, hey,” Teddy added, pulling back before Billy could start arching into the whisper-soft kisses like an affection-starved cat. “By the way. It turns out my mom’s going to be out-of-town for some realtor convention or whatever.”

“Oh, yeah?” Billy said, glancing over his shoulder. He began lifting the headpiece, ready to settle it on top the dark bird’s nest of his hair. “To Jersey again?”

“Um. Yeah. Jersey. Anyway,” Teddy said—and actually _blushed_ , the whorl of color so wonderfully rare that Billy froze in place, _watching_ , enraptured by that delicate spread of pink…so enchanted that he nearly missed the most important part, “she’ll be gone all weekend, so I was wondering if you wanted to come over and. You know. Spend the night.”

Billy blinked.

He blinked again, processing. _Come over and, you know, spend the night._

Understanding. _Spend. The. Night._

Imploding. _SPEND!!! THE!!! NIGHT!!!_

The winged diadem dropped from nerveless fingers with an all-too-loud _clang_ and Billy cursed, instinctively diving for it. He very nearly brained himself against the locker door for his pains, fumbling, stumbling, awkward and skittish as a colt as all at once every single atom in his teenaged body started lighting up in full technicolor display.

His perfect, gorgeous, sexy as _fuck_ boyfriend, Teddy Altman, wanted him to _spend the night_ while his mother was away. For presumably lots and lots of alone time. In an actual apartment. With an actual bed. Which meant sex would finally (finally!) be happening, and _oh holy crap_ he was not ready for this kind of excitement this early on a Friday morning.

“Billy,” Teddy said, _startled_ —as if he had no idea the question would send his boyfriend into near-cardiac arrest—as Billy cursed and fumbled and tried not to drop his diadem or slam his funny bone into the row of lockers or trip over his own cape or, oh yeah, get embarrassingly turned on while wearing fucking _tights_. _Again!_ Holy cheese, why was this his life? “Are you—”

“ _Do not_ ,” Billy began, forcing himself to stop fumbling around and go as still as possible. His heart was racing rabbit-fast in his chest and he felt as if he’d swallowed a whole hive of friendly bees but but but okay, yeah, okay. He could keep himself from totally losing it right now. Right? Right. “Do not,” he repeated, “wait until I’m _four minutes_ from having to go out there with Eli and Nate and run around in my _tights_ before asking me to _spend the night with you_ , then have the gall to ask if I’m _all right_.”

He managed to straighten, both hands carefully cradling the winged crown, and _glared_ at Teddy as he placed it oh-so-carefully on his own head. “I am wearing lycra, Teddy.”

Teddy just laughed—the utter asshole.

Billy turned on his boyfriend, stepping in closer, practically vibrating in place as he poked him hard in the chest. “I am wearing _lycra_ and thinking about _sex_ now, and it’s all your fault. Oh my _God_ , I have to go run wind sprints with a hard-on; why would you do this to me?”

“I’m sorry,” Teddy said, even though he was obviously _not_. “I guess I wasn’t thinking about that.”

“Um, I’ll have you know,” Billy said, “I am always thinking about _that_.”

A blond brow quirked and, oh yeah, there was a bit of playful smolder there as Teddy moved closer, crowding Billy back against the bank of lockers with the sheer width of his body. “Oh yeah?” he murmured, voice dropping low and soft—and oh, oh wow, okay, _mayday_ , because if Billy had been turned on before, he was on freaking fire now.

Billy reached up, wanting to trail his hands over _all that skin_ more than anything in the world…and gave Teddy a playful shove back. It cost more than he wanted to admit to duck away, but if he _didn’t_ , then he’d be curled up under his cloak for the next half-hour pretending to have a migraine.

Again.

“ _Tights_ ,” he reminded Teddy firmly.  “I am wearing _tights_.”

Teddy turned to watch him go. “Oh, I noticed,” he said, one corner of his mouth quirked up in an appreciative smile. Billy could all but feel Teddy’s eyes on him, which really really wasn’t helping. “It’s not like I can ever take my eyes off of you.”

Billy refused to be melted by that. “Says the guy without a shirt,” he muttered, then pinched the bridge of his nose. He could hear Eli and Nate out in the main room, setting up equipment and bickering, as per usual. Any minute now and Eli would come swinging back into the locker room like a wrathful tornado, demanding they get their asses in gear. As much as Billy wanted to say _screw it_ and fling himself at his ridiculously hot boyfriend’s head, they had very little time and very aggressively responsible teammates.

“Okay,” said, forcing himself to breathe past the twin specters of _shirtless Teddy_ and _holy shit spending the night_. “Okay, so—your mom’s out of town for the night—”

“Weekend,” Teddy corrected. “She’ll be back late Sunday night.”

His stomach tightened as the prospect of _spending the night with Teddy_ became _spending the weekend with Teddy_. There could be lazy mornings. Lazy morning _sex_. Waffles. Post-waffle sex. Walks around the block and, oh hey, post-walks-around-the-block sex. The possibilities were endless.

He swallowed hard and took a firm grip on his tumbling imagination. “Right,” he said. “The weekend. And um. Okay. Assume that I’m at an enthusiastic yes here. Let’s game this out. What do we need to do to, uh, make this happen?”

“Well,” Teddy said—blushing _again_ , because he was obviously trying to kill Billy 100% dead—“um, the condom fairy has been leaving, uh, stuff around in conspicuous locations, so…”

Billy had to cover his face with the end of his cloak, overwhelmed. He felt unmoored from his own body—heart pumping, blood rushing into all sorts of interesting (and interested) places, head spinning. He could feel the prick of electricity race across his skin, soft as a caress; he shuddered and bit the inside of his mouth and fought like hell to _calm the fuck down_. “Um. _Um_. That wasn’t exactly the logistics I meant, but uh, thanks. For the confirmation? And the mental image. And. Wow.”

They were really going to do this. If he managed to survive practice, and convince his mother to let him stay out for a night (or two!), then he and Teddy would be alone for whole stretches of hours with no one to interrupt once things started getting good. It was almost enough to have him grabbing his boyfriend by the ears and teleporting them to his bed right _now_.

 _Patience_ , he told himself—even as a quiet, nervous part of him whispered: _I’ve never done this before; what if I screw it all up?_

Billy pushed that thread of fear away, face still covered by the tattered red of his cape, thank God. Teddy was only too good at reading the minutia of his expressions. “I was thinking,” Billy forced himself to say despite the anxious, bubbling excitement building in his chest, “more like…what should I tell my mom? If your mom asks later, what will you tell _her_?”

His voice only came out a little strangled, but it was enough, apparently. Pretty much anything around Teddy was enough—Teddy, who was _so good_ with this sort of thing. With people, with emotions, with knowing exactly what to do and what to say, as he gently tugged down the cape and cupped the side of Billy’s face in one big hand.

“Hey,” Teddy said, soft. Eyes so sweet it was like tumbling headfirst into endless, boundless blue. “We don’t have to do this, you know. We don’t have to do _anything_.” He ducked a little closer, searching Billy’s expression earnestly. “I’d be perfectly happy just spending the evening chilling out here if it meant I got to spend it with you.”

Billy’s toes curled in instinctive response, stomach twisting and coiling like rising smoke. God, God, _this boy_. “Nope, sorry,” he said, his voice a little too breathy. Whatever. It wasn’t like he was trying to hide how good Teddy made him feel anymore. “You already invited me over. I’m like a vampire; once you usher me into your lair, you can’t get rid of me.”

“Oh noes,” Teddy teased, tipping his head forward to rest their foreheads together. His breath puffed warm against Billy’s parted lips. “Whatever will I do now?”

“Suffer,” Billy said, then pulled back so he could draw his cape dramatically over one bent arm again, affecting a frankly terrible accent. “Mwa-ha-ha,” he said, “I vant to suck your…” He let the words trail off suggestively, brows waggling.

Teddy choked on a surprised laugh, ears going bright red, whole face lighting up with that beautiful, beautiful blush—and yes, God, yes this was perfect happiness. If Kang came right now, Billy could happily shuffle off the mortal coil because at least he’d had _this_.

…but then again, if Kang held out just a bit longer, he could have orgasms too. That’d be pretty great.

 _Stay away, Kang_ , he thought, turning with raised brows as the locker room door swung open with far too much strength. _You’ve taken enough over the years. Give a gay Jewish nerd some slack_.

“What is taking you two so long?” Eli demanded. He lifted his dreaded stop watch, brandishing it as if he were Phoenix Wright flogging the evidence for an enraptured courtroom. “It has been _well_ over six minutes and the two of you are still fucking around in here.”

Nate poked his head in from behind their fuming team co-leader. “It’s been seven and a half,” he clarified.

Eli dropped his arm, stopwatch swaying. “Man, _stop helping_ ,” he said, turning on Nate, and Teddy took the moment of distraction to reach out and squeeze Billy’s fingers, cheeks still bright with color, laughter clear in his eyes.

 _“Ask your mom over break?”_ he mouthed, and Billy gave a wordless nod. Even though it would probably kill him trying to think of ways to ask her that weren’t horribly incriminating. Or, God, obvious. She was a genius at sniffing out shenanigans; there was no way he’d be able to hide just how gut-nervous and excited he was at the prospect of, well…

 _This_.

Teddy.

 _A full night_ , Billy thought, practically floating out after his teammates. He couldn’t keep himself from trying to imagine what it would be like. Not the sex stuff (he was doing his level best not to think about _that_ when clad head to toe in lycra, thanks) but everything else. Being able to hang out with Teddy for as long as he wanted. Brushing their teeth next to each other in the bathroom, curling up beneath a mountain of blankets, sleeping like quotation marks, Teddy just behind him on the bed, big body molded around Billy’s as if they’d been made to fit this way.

Best yet, waking up with a lazy sort of wonder, the puff of Teddy’s breath hot in his face, those dark lashes still against his cheeks. Warm and trusting and everything, everything he ever wanted here for the taking.

“ _Asgardian_ ,” Eli snapped, yanking his attention back to the practice. Billy straightened, a dark flush spreading across his cheeks. “Are you going to check in at any point, or should we just leave you wandering out in space?”

“I’m here,” he said, reaching up to fix his diadem. Resolutely, he pushed away those Saturday morning dreams—there was no point obsessively picking over the details now when, with any luck, he’d be living them before too long. “I’m ready.” Then, with more conviction that he really felt: “Let’s kick some ass.”

It turned out that’s exactly what happened.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Eli bitched. He was sprawled out across the newly cracked gymnasium floor, one hand reaching for the front of his mask. Pain and disgusted fury practically radiated off of him like stink lines, and Billy carefully allowed himself to drift back, lightning leaving blue-white tracers in his wake.

Teddy crouched down next to their leader, one big green hand hovering at his back even as he looked up toward where Nate was flying high above their heads. It was impossible to tell with the mask, but Billy swore he could _feel_ the sheepish expression in the set of those iron lips.

“That was a miscalculation,” he said.

Eli threw his mask aside, glowering up. Beads of sweat broke across the dome of his skull and his whole face was pinched tight in barely swallowed pain. “That was a _miscalculation_?”

Billy knew that deceptively calm tone; biting his lower lip, he swooped back another few feet, doing his level best to blend into the ceiling.

The thing was, until now, practice had been going well. They’d run wind sprints before throwing themselves through Eli’s latest sadistic obstacle course. Billy had even managed to not be dead last every single time, and when Nate suggested they practice their latest complicated aerial maneuvers, he’d been warily optimistic that they’d be able to pull everything off without a hitch.

That was…not what ended up happening.

“C’mon,” Teddy soothed, moving to try to catch Eli’s attention. He was big and green and crouched just to the other boy’s right, a worried mother hen despite the hulking appearance. “Let’s get you up and iced.”

“I don’t need ice,” Eli snapped, even as he gripped Teddy’s forearm and allowed himself to be (carefully!) hauled to his feet. His expression tightened further, as if he were swallowing back yowls of pain. Sweat dripped from his chin and nose. “What I _need_ is a halfway competent teammate who doesn’t drop me on my ass nine times out of ten.”

The disruptors on Nate’s suit hummed as he drifted closer. “That isn’t entirely accurate,” he said, bobbing along in their wake as Teddy helped a stiffly limping Eli toward the coolers of ice they’d taken to keeping on hand. “If anything, we’ve reached a comfortable average of six out of ten.”

Eli narrowed his eyes; Nate wisely flew ahead to prepare the ice; Teddy tossed a quick glance over his shoulder, meeting Billy’s eyes.

 _“Now?_ ” he seemed to mouth (or maybe cow or row or…no, probably _now_ ), and Billy gave a jerk of his chin. Eli was quick to get impatient with things like sprains or concussions or…well, pretty much anything that had any of them benched for more than a few minutes at a time…so there wasn’t a huge window of opportunity. _Now_ was looking to be the only time he’d get.

Red cloak fluttering behind him, Billy floated down toward the far gymnasium door. He dropped to his feet with only a small stutter-step forward, sparks dancing across lacquered wood before disappearing into puffs of dust. He shook out his hands to chase the last of the electricity from his body as he hurried through the swinging door to the locker rooms, already starting a mental timer in the back of his head.

He’d give it ten minutes tops before Eli was bellowing for him—he’d better make the time count.

Billy tugged off his diadem and tucked it beneath his arm, little metal wings sprouting to either side of his bicep as he hurried over to his locker. A stray spark burst against the metal, but he shook it off quickly as he pulled opened the door and began digging through the balled up mess of his street clothes. He’d left his phone safely tucked within his jeans; he was already thumbing it to life as he sank onto one of the benches and pulled up his list of contacts.

…then paused, thumb hovering over his mother’s name.

The way forward was pretty clear here. He needed to get his mom’s permission to spend the night out—the _weekend_ out, if he dared try to swing it—with one of his friends. Pretty easy, considering it was Teddy and everyone with a lick of sense thought the sun rose and set by his smile.

 _What a nice young man_ , he’d heard her tell his father once, and yes, _yes_ , Teddy Altman was most definitely a very nice young man. But he was also Billy’s secret boyfriend, and his fellow secret not-Avenger, and his secret—

 _The thing was_ , where Teddy was involved, there were still a lot of secrets Billy was keeping from his family. And no matter how much his mother liked Teddy and approved of their friendship, she had a keen sixth sense about these sorts of things. She _had_ to know something was up, even if she didn’t quite realize what it was yet. And _Billy_ was nervous enough that it’d only take a few probing questions before he crumpled like wet tissue. He just couldn’t hold up to the scrutiny of his mother right now—he _couldn’t_.

Which meant he needed a work-around.

Which meant he needed Jamie.

Which meant he was _yet again_ being the worst best friend of all time, but God, he just, he couldn’t think his way around this. Not now, not when he had this timer in his head counting down the minutes and thoughts of time spent with Teddy (alone in his bed, kissing, touching, re— _no, Billy, focus_ ) and lies and his mother’s judging gaze and and and—

He pulled up Jamie’s number and tapped out a quick message. ‘ _Hey.’_ Casual enough. Relaxed. Friendly. _‘You around?’_

An agonizing age passed before dots appeared beneath his message, followed by an enthusiastic: _‘hey!! What’s up? don’t you and T have practice today?’_ There was a short pause while Billy started tapping out a reply. Before he could finish, a second text appeared. _‘don’t tell me ur playing hooky.’_

 _‘Yeah, but Nate bruised Eli’s tailbone, so we’re taking a break.’_ He paused. _‘…don’t ask.’_

Jamie’s response was immediate and typical. _‘wwwooooooooooowww, I didn’t realize you guys got so hardcore.’_

He rolled his eyes even as he grinned, thumbs flying. He had the worst best friend of all time. The absolute worst. _‘Ugh, don’t do that either,’_ he teased. Just past the locker room door, he could hear Eli loudly bitching Nate out. Still. Teddy would do his best to keep the peace, but Billy couldn’t bet on them all taking their time; he needed to get moving. _‘But uh, hey, there is something you could do for me?’_

Crap, why was he so nervous?

Jamie’s replies came in quick succession, one after the other, so very much _like him_ that Billy could actually hear his playful drawl in his head. Just a whole string of:

_‘Sure, name it and it’s yours.’_

_‘Within reason.’_

_‘I mean, I love you like a brother, B, but there are some seas this sailor wasn’t meant to brave.’_

_‘Like, for instance, actual sailing.’_

_‘Motion sickness. It’s a killer.’_

There was a long pause where the three little dots just floated there. Taunting him. Teasing him. Giving him every damn excuse he needed not to say the one thing he really wanted to say. The stretch of time was enough to get him tumbling over his own thoughts again. Should he really do this? Back before, when Teddy was just this hot, sweet, wonderful guy he liked—back when they barely knew each other and every second around him was endless waves of silent agonized _want_ —Jamie had seemed willing to play wingman, but it had gotten old for him fast.

Or, no, more accurately, Billy had made it get old for him because Billy kept _ignoring_ him. Favoring the excitement of seeing his crush over the solid warmth of hanging out with his childhood friend. He’d used Jamie as a go-between, and he’d lied to him, and he’d very nearly ruined what they had.

Was he doing the same thing again? Was he repeating past mistakes over and over? Crap, maybe he should call this off. Maybe he shouldn’t ask. Maybe—

A text finally came through. _‘You know, you’re being suspiciously silent, B. Did Eli confiscate your phone? I bet he would. He sounds like every gym teacher I was secretly terrified of.’_

Billy let out a heavy gust of breath. ‘ _No_ ,’ he typed, then paused. ‘ _I mean, yes, he has before. But no, not this time. They’re still—_ ‘

Why was he explaining all this? The yelling had died down and any moment now, someone would stick their head in here and tell him to get his skinny ass back in gear. He needed to either ask or not. And, well… He didn’t want to use Jamie, but he also didn’t want to keep this from him. This was big for him. Huge. And Jamie had been there as his partner in crime for all the biggest changes in his life. So his hands only shook a little as he added, ‘ _Look, uh. Teddy asked if I could come over tonight.’_

_‘oookay. And?’_

All right, maybe that had been too vague. He took a breath. _‘And, uh, he wondered if I could spend the night. His mom’s out of town?’_ Shit, he couldn’t just leave it open-ended like that. Not with Jamie. _‘Don’t freak out,’_ Billy added quickly.

He may as well not have bothered.

_‘WHAT OMG OMGJIOJFOIJEHFHHEA BILLY’_

Billy lightly dropped his forehead against the screen, but he was laughing. Curled up on the bench in the ruined Avenger’s mansion, wearing lycra and a cape and talking about having sex with his boyfriend: he still couldn’t believe this was his life. _‘I said don’t freak out!’_

_‘ARE YOU TELLING ME WE’RE FINALLY GETTING SOME?????????????????????????????????’_

Another text came through: _‘??????????????????????????????????’_

And another: _‘???????????????????????????????????????????? :D?’_

It was all Billy could do to keep from cracking up, skinny shoulders rounded forward as if protecting his phone from the ghosts of Avengers past. What would Iron Man think about this conversation? Oh God, what would _Captain America_ say? He could hear it now: your country wants YOU to wear condoms! _‘What is this ‘we’ business?’_ Billy typed, trying to banish that surreal image. Pre-sex jitters were clearly getting to him.

Jamie’s reply came quickly, as if he were racing out his reply. _‘Shut up, my geeky ass is living vicariously through you, OMG BILLY, GO AND GET IT SON’_

 _‘I hate you so much,’_ he typed with a delighted snort. By which, of course, he mean: _I love you_. He hadn’t actually asked his question, though, and he could feel time running out. Billy wet his bottom lip, glancing at the locker room door before forcing himself to add, _‘But uh, could you cover for me and maybe ask my mom if I can spend the weekend at your place?’_

Once the question was out there, he felt compelled to keep going—to keep explaining himself. To try his damndest to make sure the most important friendship of his life wasn’t ruined. _‘I’m afraid that if I ask her, she’ll see right through me’_

Then: ‘ _And I’d really rather survive to see another day_.’

And then: ‘ _And um, would it be too awkward for you to lie for me?_ ’

There was no reply. No little dots showing Jamie even intended to reply. Nothing. There was nothing. Billy made a face, feeling like the biggest asshole in the world. Shit, he shouldn’t have done this. ‘I _t’d be too awkward for you to lie for me, wouldn’t it?_ ’

Nothing.

_‘I know that’s asking a lot. And if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I just’_

He just couldn’t finish the thought. He just couldn’t think. He just couldn’t breathe. _Shit shit shit_. Silence from Jamie was never a good thing. He was so exuberant, so loud and bright and effervescent, that any stretch of stillness either meant trouble or hurt feelings or both.

 _‘Crap,’_ Billy typed. Jamie had called him out once for using him to get to Teddy, and here he was doing the exact same thing all over again. Would he never fucking learn his lesson? _‘Are you mad? I shouldn’t have asked. I don’t want you to think that I’m using you’_

Then, miraculously, Jamie’s text appeared. _‘whoa whoa whoa, hey, calm the guilt freakout. I was busy texting her.’_

His heart gave a complicated swooping dive. He could actually feel it somersaulting in his chest, tightening his lungs until he could barely suck in a full breath. _‘holy shit,’_ he typed, feeling strangely light-headed. _‘so you’ll do it?’_

 _‘Billy,’_ Jamie replied in a quick string of texts.

_‘Buddy.’_

_‘Friend.’_

_‘You are about to get laid.’_

_‘You are living the dream. Far be it for me to get in the way of the dream.’_

Billy let out a long breath. He couldn’t believe this was (maybe, possibly) happening. _‘Thank you so much for doing this for me,’_ he typed out. Just through the doors, he could hear a voice rising, calling his name. Oops, it looked like his few minutes were up. He quickly raced to add, _‘I have to go back to practice, but I wanted you to know that it means, just, I mean, you know.’_

 _‘Oh, I know,’_ Jamie replied. _‘And if the day comes when you can return the favor (spoiler: it won’t), then I know you’d do the same.’_

He would do anything for this boy. He would rewrite time and space if he had to. _‘Seriously, Jamie. You’re my best friend.’_

 _‘Seriously, Billy, go back to practice before scary-team-leader eats your face. I’ll let you know what your mom says.’_ The screen went dark for a moment before brightening again, Jamie’s words big and bold and happy. _‘Oh, and remember what a wise old friend of yours once said: seize the day. CARPE HOTTIE!’_

Billy laughed and quickly stashed his phone, grabbing his diadem as he stumbled toward the locker room door. He was scooting through it, shoving the winged monstrosity back onto his head before Eli had managed to storm halfway across the gymnasium.

“All right!” Billy said bright, calling up a crackle of lightning. It lifted his cape around him, making its tattered ends billow and swirl as he rose a few inches off the floor. “Who’s ready to get back to business!”

Eli froze mid-stride, scowl lightening into a confused frown, then a wry shake of his head. He about-faced, turning toward Nate and Teddy, who were both trailing obediently after him. The seat of Eli’s lycra pants was wet from the ice bag Teddy had probably insisted on, and something about that spreading dark mark almost had Billy aspirating on a laugh.

Jamie had asked _his mother_ if he could spend the weekend out. He’d probably know the answer by the next time Eli let them take a water break. He’d—He’d—He and Teddy would—

There was no way he could think about that now. Not and keep control of his ever-growing grin, cracking wide across his face as Eli clapped his hands together and said, “All right, then! If we’re done fooling around, let’s start over from the beginning.”

This was usually Billy’s cue to groan and bitch, but all he did was shoot off a jaunty salute at Eli’s raised eyebrow. “From the beginning!” he said brightly, all the nerves and joy lighting him up inside like fireworks over Coney Island. He couldn’t control the fizzing brightness if he tried. “Aye aye!”

“…and someone check Billy for a head injury,” Eli muttered, yanking back on his mask.

Billy just laughed. Teddy grinned, moving over to him, offering up his big (huge; massive; monumental) hands so Billy could lift him up into the air—lighter than his eye-popping mass made him appear. “I volunteer as tribute,” Teddy whispered with a broad wink up at him, and it was all Billy could do not to die of happiness.

 _Tonight_ , some small, secret part of him whispered even as he carried Teddy into starting formation. _Tonight, tonight, tonight._

He managed to stay focused…relatively…for the next couple of hours.

True, Billy found himself missing Eli’s every third order or so because his mind was wandering to the phone sitting and waiting for him. And true, he was getting chewed out more than usual, Teddy making increasingly sympathetic faces as even Nate started in on Billy for flubbing cues and flying out of sequence and blah blah blah _oh my God who cared_? Yes, fine, the fate of the world rested on him getting this right, but it was surprisingly hard to concentrate on his impending doom when waiting to hear back from Jamie.

Finally, mask tossed aside and skull dripping with sweat, Eli gave up in disgust.

“Get your ass off my practice field, _Asgardian_ ,” he snapped, twisting out of Nate’s loose grip. He dropped to the ground with his usual heavy-treaded grace, eyes narrowed into slits. “And don’t come back until you’re ready to be serious.”

Teddy twisted his head up to look at him, wide blue eyes full of worry. Billy supposed he should feel worried himself—or guilty—or something other than secretly gleeful at the reprise. Getting (metaphorically) sent to the principal’s office had never felt so good.

“Aye aye,” he chirped, swooping low to let Teddy drop. At both Eli and Nate’s flat stares, he added a quick, “Sorry.”

But he wasn’t sorry. His thoughts were racing and his heart was pounding and he was already making a beeline for the locker room door, tattered cape streaming dramatically behind him. He just barely heard Eli mutter something in disgust before he was flying through the door, stumbling to the ground the moment he passed the threshold.

Outside, Teddy’s training montage mix went silent, and Billy winced even as he made a dive for his phone. Thankfully, a series of messages were waiting.

 **212-555-9078** : _Sooooooo your mother responded._

 **212-555-9078** : _And I’ve got some news for you._

 **212-555-9078** : _…nuts, you’re practicing, aren’t you? It’s no fun trying to hold the suspense if you’re not there to yell at me._

 **212-555-9078** : _Ugh, fine. She said yes. Pack your bags, Billy! You’re getting laid!_

That cheerful message was followed with nearly a full screen of eggplants and hearts.

Billy let out a choked laugh, one hand clapping over his mouth as something very much like panicked joy threatened to overwhelm him. It seemed frankly impossible that this was actually happening to him. That it was finally, _finally_ his turn to get the happy ending (literal, figurative, whatever!) promised in every teen sex comedy. Just…

Boy meets boy, boy pines over boy, boy almost gets boy but then loses boy because of ridiculously contrived plot, boy gets boy again and and and _this_. The promise of uninterrupted hours to just be with Teddy in whatever way they wanted. To curl against his side and fall asleep in his arms and wake up to his morning breath and yes, all of it. He wanted every single bit he could get.

Cradling the phone against his chest, he gave another breathless laugh.

“I hear that cackling quietly to yourself is a pretty bad sign.” Teddy’s voice drifted from the now-open doorway. Billy turned toward it, a flower to a sun, a million and one happy clichés, and let him have the full brunt of his beaming grin.

Teddy actually froze mid-step at the weight of it, visibly _stunned_ —motionless, speechless, watching Billy with a depth of emotion that should have been terrifying. God, maybe it was terrifying; maybe his stomach was swooping and spinning and twisting into knots because the sheer depth of this boy’s feelings for him frightened him to the core.

But even if that was the case, he _couldn’t. Stop. Smiling._ It almost hurt to smile so big and broad, the pure joy cracking the delicate shell of his skin and bones until he flaked away into dust and pure sensation.

Or something. _Something._ Whatever, ugh, it was just too much.

“You are _too much_ ,” Teddy was finally saying, echoing Billy’s thoughts perfectly. He let the door swing shut behind him, hurrying down the steps. He was already shifting as he moved, green skin going a lovely mottled teal, then golden-pink as his hair brightened and his body morphed—but before all of Hulkling could be stripped away, Billy was throwing himself recklessly into his arms.

The phone clattered to the ground— _don’t care, don’t care, don’t care_ —and his fingers were threading through black hair just as it bled its way to gold. He could _feel_ the muscles shifting down beneath him, could feel the height difference shortening, could feel everything that was Hulkling become everything that was Teddy, and fuck, he even _tasted_ the shift as his tongue stroked past Teddy’s parted lips.

It wasn’t a sexual kiss so much as pure live wire connection. All the happily buzzing pieces inside of him finding their match in Teddy and sparking light. Billy could actually feel the static charge dance across his skin, and he made a breathless noise as he surged up for more.

Teddy’s hands—big, strong, but _gentle_ too; artist’s hands that could define the shape of his world with a simple brush and paints—spanned down his back before gripping his ass. There was a muffled laugh half-lost in the kiss as the cape got in the way, and Billy grinned back sharply, hoisting himself up until his legs could wrap high around Teddy’s waist.

 _You got me_ , he thought with a little wriggle; Teddy squeezed back as if to say, _yeah, of course_. And somewhere along the way, their tongues twined liquid heat together, stroking deeper and deeper and deeper as the seconds ticked past.

Finally, Billy pulled back to suck in a breath. He was flushed almost as red as his cape and yes, fine, maybe a little turned on. But that still wasn’t the point, he decided, reaching up to cup Teddy’s face and brush his thumbs along his spit-slick lips. The point was… The point was…

 _The point was_ the way Teddy had looked at him. _The point was_ the way they made each other feel inside, and the sheer promise that this was just the first night in a series of forever, if they were lucky.  Fuck the odds; his first love was going to be his last, and they were going to be so stupidly happy together forever.

…or until the world ended.

“Hey,” Billy said, trusting Teddy to understand what he meant. “You’re my end of the world guy.”

Judging by the sweet smile that crept across his face, Teddy read easily between the lines. “Yeah?” he said. “Is that better than your desert island guy?”

“Oh yeah,” Billy said. “A thousand times better. I mean for one, less sand.”

He laughed, leaning in to kiss the point of his chin. “All right, Anakin Skywalker.”

Billy swatted at him. “Excuse you, I’m not the one destined to be evil here,” he protested. Then, more fairly, “Though we’re going to save Nate so he doesn’t have to be Darth Vader either.”

“I think that sounds like a deal,” Teddy said. Then, subtly shifting, eyes dropping down to the phone _still_ abandoned on the floor (and seriously hopefully its screen not smashed into spiderwebs), he added, “So, uh, I take it she said yes?”

If possible, Billy’s cheeks heated _more_ ; it didn’t seem fair. “Uh, oh, hey, whatever gave you that idea?” he sassed, trying to brazen it out.

But there was no brazening out the soft way Teddy looked at him—all warmth and affection and disbelief, as if he still couldn’t understand how he’d reached this point. (As if he still thought, deep down, he didn’t deserve to, and oh God Billy was going to spend as long as it took, do whatever he had to, to see that those last lingering doubts were chased away.) “I dunno,” Teddy said, lashes flickering as his gaze dropped between Billy’s mouth and Billy’s eyes, taking him in. “Just a hunch I had.”

“This,” Billy said as he slung his overnight bag over his shoulder, “is not at all awkward. Right? This is just…so normal, so relaxed, so not…not…not…”

“Awkward?” Teddy said, corner of his mouth kicking up into a smile.

Billy pointed at him. “See, right, yes! Totally not awkward.”

“Nope,” Teddy faux-agreed. He reached over to tug the strap down Billy’s arm, taking his bag with just a token protest from Billy. “None of this is even a little bit awkward at all—especially since you’ve been repeating that same reassurance for the last ten minutes or so.”

“Well,” Billy said, swinging his now-free arm until he could get a good grip on Teddy’s hand. “I just wanted to make sure the totally-not-awkwardness of all this was perfectly clear.”

“And of course there’s nothing less awkward than pointing out how not-awkward things are,” Teddy countered with a wicked grin.

They were headed down the avenue toward the subway station, the early evening’s traffic humming around them. The rest of practice had pretty much been a wash, with Eli and Nate both glaring daggers every time Billy so much as twitched. He was pretty sure they were going to be out for blood for the next few weeks, but it was hard to be worried (to be anything more than perfectly, blissfully content, really) with everything else going on.

…okay, _perfectly blissfully content_ may have been stretching things a bit. Maybe that had been true earlier in the day, when they were still hours away from being ready to go home, but now? Billy was fairly certain that the butterflies in his belly were about to stage a coup, and his heart was galloping off to increasingly uneven patterns. The backs of his knees were sweating; was it really possible to be blissfully anything when even the _backs of his knees_ were sweating with nerves?

Shit, he was panicking. He needed to _stop_.

…

…

…knowing that he needed to stop was doing nothing to actually make him stop.

“So, um!” Billy blurted, realizing the silence was stretching on maybe a beat or two too long. Teddy was looking at him, brows knitting together into a familiar sort of frown that very nearly had Billy mentally somersaulting over himself trying to figure out what he’d missed. Had Teddy said something? Was it his cue to think up some return banter? Or, hell, maybe Teddy had asked a question and here Billy was absolutely freaking out—except he really, really didn’t want Teddy to know he was freaking out, because if he did, then maybe he’d take the rising tide of nerves as some kind of sign that Billy didn’t want this after all and he’d… He’d…

Fuck, whatever, he’d withdraw the open invitation to his dick or something, just, mayday, mayday. _Why was his brain so weird_?

“Um!” he tried again, fighting to get his thoughts back on track. The threading anxiety had started ratcheting up the closer they grew to end of practice, and now that he and Teddy were reaching the subway station that would take them down to the N (followed by the R, followed by _Teddy’s apartment and the sex to be had therein_ ), he was rapidly unraveling.

It wouldn’t be so bad if they could just skip the awkward wait and jump straight to the…the rest of it. At least then Billy wouldn’t have time to second- and third-guess everything in his head. But getting from Manhattan to Brooklyn meant about an hour and thirty minutes _if they were lucky_ , and he was starting to wonder if he wasn’t just going to melt into a useless pile of nerves before they even crossed the bridge.

“So,” Teddy said, tightening his fingers around Billy’s. He gave a little tug, pulling him back a little—away from the steps leading into the underground. “I’m beginning to suspect that _this is totally not awkward_ is actually code for _my brain is leaking out of my ears in panic._ ”

Billy gave a huff of breath, instinctively tightening up in response. That was…astonishingly accurate, actually, but not something he really wanted Teddy to be thinking. “No, no, of course not,” he lied, flailing openly with his free hand and nearly knocking into some poor girl just trying to go about her day. He flushed and muttered an apology, letting Teddy reel him away from the high foot traffic flow and closer to one of the buildings. “I mean…what’s there to be awkward about?” he said. “It’s just us.”

 _It’s just us. It’s just perfect you and gawky me and…sex_.

“Yeah,” Teddy said quietly, ducking his head to meet Billy’s eyes. “It’s just us.”

“And I want that. I want it to just be us. I mean…end of the world guy, right?” Billy said. He let out a breath and dropped his forehead against Teddy’s shoulder, ignoring the occasional curious glance they earned. Fine. Truth time. “I’m just…an awkward weird gawky virgin and I’m sort of starting to freak out about all that now.”

Teddy ducked his head to brush his lips against Billy’s temple. “Hey,” he murmured, hot breath rustling the fine hairs there. “I happen to _like_ awkward, weird, and gawky.”

Billy grabbed fistfuls of his t-shirt, hanging on for dear life. “Don’t forget virgin,” he muttered.

“It that really what this is about?” Teddy let the bag (stuffed with some of the spare clothes Billy kept in his locker) drop to the pavement so he could wrap his arms nice and tight about Billy, giving him the warm stability he so desperately needed right now. There were no words for how good it felt to be in Teddy’s arms—to listen to the even pound of his heartbeat, to fill his lungs with sweaty skin and lemon-scented laundry detergent and the sea. “About… Billy. Even though we don’t have to do anything—”

“We are so doing something,” Billy muttered, voice muffled against Teddy’s chest.

“—if we _do_ , um… You know I don’t have any, ah. Expectations, right? For like…” Teddy cleared his throat, sounding just a bit _awkward_ himself. “Whatever happens will be so… Ah. And anyway, it’s not like I have a ton of experience either? So we’re just going to be fumbling and clumsy together, and that’ll be like _really really great_.”

Billy tilted his head to peer up at Teddy’s adorably flushed face. “I really appreciate the pep talk,” he said, “but, I mean, I _know_ you’ve, you know, done this before. Plenty of times. With Greg the Asshole?” He instantly wished he could suck those words back into his mouth—not only because they sounded stupidly judgy, which was _not_ what he was trying to do, but because the instant _that name_ crossed his lips, Teddy’s gaze darted to the side and the adorable flush of color left his cheeks.

Just…drained away, as if _Greg the fucking Asshole_ still had some kind of power over him even now.

“I’m sorry,” Billy said quickly, starting to pull away. Oh God, he was the absolute _worst_ ; why did he keep opening his mouth only to shove his whole leg inside?

But Teddy tightened his arms around him, keeping him close. “Billy,” he said slowly. “I haven’t—I mean, you don’t—I mean—”

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Billy said, letting go of his stranglehold on Teddy’s shirt to reach up to cup his face. It felt surreal, having this moment at the edge of a crowded sidewalk within spitting distance of the shell of the Avenger’s mansion, but it also felt so very necessary. He couldn’t let Teddy pack up whatever emotion Billy had so messily unspooled—couldn’t let him repress it down down down the way he always seemed to do.

It wasn’t healthy, it wasn’t right, it wasn’t—

 _Not because of me_ , Billy thought, stroking his thumbs across Teddy’s cheeks and waiting patiently until those blue eyes met his. _I can’t let him close up because of me._ “I’m sorry,” he said again, quiet. “I didn’t mean to bring it up. Whatever happened _happened_ , and you know, I really don’t care if you’re more, um, experienced. You know that, right? I really don’t? I’m just nervous about, about everything, about me, and I spoke without thinking and…”

Teddy lifted a hand, gently covering Billy’s. Calloused fingertips brushed along the back of his palm. “Billy,” Teddy said quietly, intently. “I know. I promise, I know. It’s okay.”

He let out a heavy breath. “Okay, whew. Okay. I mean, I was still an asshole, but…”

But Teddy wasn’t done. “And I wasn’t… I mean, I’ve done all that before, yeah, but. Tonight’s still going to be all new, too. You know that, right?”

“Well sure,” Billy said, trying to make it a joke—anything to backpedal from the mess he’d made. “For one, it’s never been with _me_.”

“It’s never really been with me, either,” Teddy said. Then, because there weren’t enough reasons in the world to hate Greg the Asshole: “Billy…you know Greg never wanted _me_ , right? He wanted…” Teddy let out a breath, small smile gone heartbreaking. “He wanted Dana.”

Billy had no idea who Dana was, but that was so far from the point it may as well have been in fucking space or something. He rose up onto the balls of his feet in order to get as close to Teddy as he could manage—to bring their faces together until they were breathing the same air, filling the same space, tipped close together and yet nowhere near close enough. Not for how he felt: messy and desperate and angry and hurt and so in love he couldn’t stand it.

“Teddy,” Billy said, words little more than a puff of air against Teddy’s lips. “You need to know that tonight? Every other night? Until Kang comes and we kick his ass back to the future or he ends the world or _whatever_ , you need to know that I want you. _You._ Not, you know, whatever you turn into. Just you, no matter what shape _you_ are. I mean,” he added, feeling something hot burning behind his eyes. “You could literally realize your true form was a turtle and I would become known as Asgardian, that weird Avenger who is stupidly in love with the turtle.”

Teddy gave a choked laugh, squeezing his eyes shut. Tears gathered on his lashes, but he was smiling, and it was the most beautiful sight Billy had ever seen.

“You are _incredible_ and _wonderful_ and _perfect_ and—” Something horrible occurred to him. “And oh my God,” Billy said, jolting back. He jerked a hand over his mouth, staring at Teddy in dawning horror. His big mouth had gotten him in trouble countless times before, but this… This felt like a whole new low. “Oh my God, Teddy,” he wailed as Teddy blinked open his eyes to look at him. Still with him despite everything. “I just admitted I was in love with you while talking about _turtle sex_. What, what _what_ is even wrong with me?”

And Teddy just _laughed_ , those tears streaming down his cheeks, flushed bright with color as he tipped himself forward and fell giddily against Billy—face pressed in the dark snarl of his hair, one arm wrapping around his middle, helpless giggles making his whole body shake.

Billy huffed out a breath, part mortified and part amused, and gladly took Teddy’s weight. He nuzzled his own face against the warmth of his t-shirt, kissing the steady pound of Teddy’s heart and, yeah, _loving him_. Loving him with everything he had, everything he was, everything he ever would be, because there were several hundred billion stars in the Milky Way but there was only one Teddy Altman.

“I suck,” he said, voice muffled, beginning to smile a little. _Fuck_ Greg the Asshole anyway; things couldn’t be so very bad if Billy could still make Teddy laugh like that.

“Shh, no,” Teddy said, still snickering happily. He nosed against Billy’s hair, soft huffs of breath making him shiver as they gusted against his ear. “No, that was—that was perfect. You’re so perfect. Just.” Teddy pulled back to look at him, shining, wonderful. Earnest. “I’m so touched to hear you’d still be hot for my turtle ass.”

Billy groaned and pretended to flop back dramatically, but Teddy caught him and reeled him close for a kiss. Then another. Then _another_. They all melted together in a slowly blooming heat, Billy’s lips parting as Teddy brushed his tongue along the corners of his mouth before dipping inside… _slowly_. Gently. Slicking and tangling and and and _teasing_ in the best kind of way, lingering laughter transmutating into something simmering. As if they had all the time in the world to enjoy each other and explore each other and—

He slid his fingers into Teddy’s hair, holding on tight, even as Teddy wrapped his arms around his waist. Those impressive biceps bulged, tightening around him; he could feel the moment his lungs went tight and his head spun.

And then Teddy broke the kiss just long enough to whisper against his mouth: “I love you too, you know,” and it was like fireworks going off in his brain. Reds and blues and greens and golds exploding behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” Billy breathed, feeling it down to his toes. Suddenly—or had this been happening slowly, all along?—he wasn’t nervous or afraid. He wasn’t shy about his lack of experience. He just _wanted_ so much, so deeply. With everything he had. And God, but he didn’t want to wait an hour and a half to reach Brooklyn to have him.

“Hey Teddy?” Billy said, the breath shared between them, hot with promise of something more. “ ** _I want us to be in your room right now._** ”

And just like magic—like the universe finally clicking in place for them piece by piece in a flare of brilliant blue—they were.


End file.
